Scam Case (Part 1) In late December 2024, I met a female netizen named "Chen Chen" through MonChats. She had photos and voice clips posted there, which significantly lowered my guard against online scams. Noticing her active involvement in the crypto community, I exchanged Line contacts with her to discuss virtual currencies. Then, on January 20, 2025, when Trump was elected, Chen Chen had already predicted that Bitcoin would surge above $100,000. She advised me to buy and hold some Bitcoin. Following her suggestion, I invested $1,000 in Bitcoin—and it actually turned a profit! Grateful, I bought her a dining gift card via Line Gifts to thank her for the profitable advice. Little did I know, her real scheme was just beginning. Initially, she refused the gift, claiming we were just friends and that she hadn’t done much. She told me to save the money and treat her to yakiniku (Japanese BBQ) someday if I made more profits. Her words left a deep impression on me. As someone who hates owing favors, I kept thinking about repaying her kindness later. She then introduced me to the "Onion Ring Cryptocurrency" community, joking that its members were unserious but friendly and eager to share money-making tips. Without suspicion, I joined and interacted with them, occasionally receiving updates on Bitcoin’s rise. Chen Chen also advised me to buy EC Platform’s dual-currency wealth management products during Bitcoin’s dip. After some consideration—and coincidentally receiving a bank loan offer—I asked Chen Chen to calculate the potential returns if I invested the borrowed funds. She estimated that the principal plus interest could be recouped in three months. Convinced, I took the loan and made my first EC dual-currency investment (Bitcoin & USDT), unaware it marked the start of a nightmare. Next, she suggested I sell my U.S. stock ETFs on eToro, convert them to Bitcoin, transfer to Binance, and invest in a second round of dual-currency products. Growing suspicious, I demanded we exchange ID cards as collateral—if EC turned out to be a scam, I could at least track her down. Feigning offense at my distrust, she readily agreed, deepening my trust in her. Given our prior interactions, I dismissed my doubts and trusted this "good friend" again. For the third investment, timed during another Bitcoin low, EC Platform offered a 3% rebate for participating in their wealth management event. I consulted Chen Chen on borrowing options, comparing loan rates across banks before settling on a policy loan—withdrawing all NT$347,000 from a university-era insurance policy to reinvest. (Continued due to word limit.) The fourth investment coincided with another EC Platform promotion: a 100 USDT rebate for deposits reaching ~NT$80,000. Chen Chen guided me through buying crypto via BitoPro to qualify. The fifth and final investment topped up the fourth (which fell short of NT$80,000) with an additional NT$30,000 worth of USDT—a classic "averaging down" move. Then, things took a dark turn. In early May 2025, someone contacted me claiming they couldn’t withdraw funds from EC. Assuming it was a joke, I tried helping by reaching out to EC’s support and community managers, only to be accused of colluding with the "victim" to infiltrate and scam others. Panicked, I turned to Chen Chen, who dismissed the victim as untrustworthy and insisted I rely solely on her—she was "the police," the one in the right. My suspicions grew. On May 8, when I attempted to withdraw my EC investments, support gave me the runaround before ghosting me completely. Total losses: over NT$1 million. As an ordinary person, I lost my savings and now shoulder a massive debt. This ordeal taught me a hard lesson: even friends who joke, curse, and seem genuine can’t be fully trusted. May my story serve as a warning. Trust your own judgment when investing—not others’ platform or financial "advice." Chen Chen, if you’re reading this: I’m deeply disappointed. Your betrayal plunged me into an abyss. I still remember our yakiniku promise. I never saw it coming—never.