Fake Australian, Chinese and Brazilian police stations: BBC goes inside a seized scam compound

Behind the Royal Hill casino in Cambodia’s border town of O Smach lies a six-story structure housing a sprawling network of fraudulent operations. The building’s dimly lit corridors conceal a range of replicas, from a Vietnamese bank to an Australian police station, with Chinese officers’ uniforms and motivational slogans adorning its walls. A sign in Chinese characters reads “Money Coming From Everywhere,” while discarded fake hundred-dollar bills litter the floor. This compound, once a hub for global scams, was abandoned after a Thai air force bombing in December, part of a brief border conflict fueled by accusations that Cambodian drones were launched from the casino.

Thai soldiers now occupy the site, their presence highlighting the scale of the scam industry in Cambodia. The military’s intervention aimed to expose the operation to the world, underscoring the need for international collaboration to dismantle it. Yet, the attack also provided a rationale for continued air strikes on Cambodian targets. The Cambodian government, while protesting the occupation, acknowledged the ceasefire agreement that kept forces in place after the conflict.

Elite Tycoons and the Rise of Scams

Cambodia’s tycoons, many of whom accumulated wealth post-1991 civil war, often relied on connections to the ruling Hun clan. Ly Yong Phat, a prominent figure linked to former prime minister Hun Sen, faced sanctions for alleged human trafficking and online fraud. Meanwhile, Royal Hill’s owner, Lim Heng, remains less conspicuous, though he too holds the prestigious title of Neak Oknha, a recognition requiring a $500,000 donation. His unusual habit of visiting the cremation site of Pol Pot, near another casino, adds a layer of intrigue to his involvement.

Once, casinos like O Smach thrived on gambling bans in neighboring countries. Chinese crime syndicates leveraged these opportunities, operating both physical and online gambling ventures. But in 2019, under Chinese pressure, Hun Sen outlawed online gambling. The pandemic then disrupted cross-border travel, pushing syndicates to recruit young workers with promises of lucrative salaries. Many arrived expecting clerical roles, only to discover the harsh realities of the scam industry.

“We need international help in shutting this scourge down,” said a Thai military official, emphasizing the compound’s significance as a symbol of Cambodia’s growing scam economy.

Inside Royal Hill, remnants of the operation revealed the brutal regime. Chinese documents found in the rubble detailed punishments for missing targets, such as five cane strokes for failing to secure a “lead” by day’s end. Workers who faltered after three days faced at least ten strokes. The remnants of uneaten meals and half-drunk cans underscored the grim conditions, as the compound’s secrets were exposed in the aftermath of the attack.