China’s Real-Life “Squid Game” Is Here

An ominous challenge resembling Netflix's brutal 
“Squid Game”

is ensnaring Chinese people and wreaking havoc

. Welcome to China Uncensored, 
I’m Chris Chappell.

Throughout the years, all sorts of different challenges have spread far

and 
wide across Chinese social media platforms.

For example, there are the infamous skinny challenges,

where you have to show how skinny you are

by doing things like tying an earphone cable around 
your waist

or reach around your back to touch your belly button.

This is the one time 
starving under communism could actually benefit someone.

There are also several martial arts 
challenges involving impressive kicks…

and high jumps.

And then there’s this one, where 
people are supposed to enter or exit a subway train and then – TADA!

For this one, though, 
you have to be careful that you don’t get stuck

in the subway time-and-space loop

. This is what 
delays on New York transit feel like.

But while many Chinese online challenges are about showing 
off and having fun

, riskier kinds have recently emerged with higher stakes

and under darker circumstances.

Some of these are evoking eerie comparisons to the Netflix hit-series “Squid 
Game”,

where a group of financially distressed contestants in South Korea

compete against each 
other in a sequence of games over an astronomical cash reward

that can only be claimed by the last 
person alive.

The most common such challenge

in China often starts with an ad on a social 
media platform like Douyin,

showing footage of a person alone in a room going about their 
day.

This is accompanied by text and a voice

explaining how a lot of money has been won

by 
contestants taking up a self-isolation challenge,

requiring them to simply stay in a hotel room for 
about a month

, while outside staff made sure that

they had all they needed, even providing 
three meals a day.

Doesn’t sound too bad.

Kind of just sounds like China’s brutal new 
prison system, minus most of the more brutal elements

. Other videos show people the moment 
they successfully complete the self-isolation

being cheerfully greeted by an organizer

and 
presented with a cash prize of as much as one million yuan , about $140,000.

They made that 
much cash just by not interacting with someone for a month?

I do that every month! I haven’t left 
this room since 2012!

Chinese people out there feeling jealous at this point in the story can 
rejoice.

Because now they can have a shot at the prize money, too!

These videos are accompanied 
by the contact info of the organizers,

and a quick phone call is usually all it takes to 
get the green light from the operator

and, soon after, receive the documents outlining 
the rules of the game.

Hopefully, this isn’t so much like Squid Game that this is 
who gives the green light.

The rules usually don’t allow eating and drinking anything 
other than the food provided at each meal,

and they also forbid smoking, using electronic 
devices,

, bathroom breaks exceeding 15 minutes

as well as any contact with people not involved 
in the challenge.

At the same time, players are often not allowed to cover up their faces

or do 
anything that restricts or limits

the view of the surveillance cameras that will be monitoring 
their activities

in the room 24/7 during the self-isolation.

So it’s like an OnlyFans stream 
that you can’t leave.

Hm. Gonna need to update Dante’s list and add this as the 10th circle 
of Hell.

Now, these rules might sound strict,

but bear in mind that many people in China 
recently lived through years

of the Chinese government’s draconian zero-COVID policy,

where 
life was dictated by unpredictable red and green health codes…

as well as the wanton cruelty 
of Chinese officials wearing hazmat suits.

So, for many, this feels less like a challenge 
and more like nostalgia.

Many people experienced being locked down completely

in their apartments for more than a month,

sometimes with limited access to food and drink.

By the time they were allowed to re-emerge,

they were greeted by a surging COVID death 
toll during the chaotic end of the zero-COVID policy,

and they were welcomed by an ailing 
economy.

Rather than a million yuan. Yeah,

I’m starting to see the appeal to this from their 
perspective.

For people that lived through that,

a self-isolation challenge probably sounds like 
a test they have already aced,

and with a major cash prize waiting on the other side

, they are 
within reach of a well-deserved reward after the years of COVID hardship

. So, many willingly 
accept the terms of the game, as well as pay

the around $1,000 fee that is usually required by 
most organizers –

a small price to pay when you’re pretty much set to win $140,000.

I’m sure nothing 
bad can happen when people drop a ton of money

expecting to win even more in the long run.

That’s 
why all gambling addicts are millionaires!

When people afterwards check in to the designated 
isolation location

, it makes sense if they feel confident about what lies ahead.

But, as you 
might expect, few participants get anywhere close

to completing the challenge.

In fact, most are 
disqualified after only a few days into it.

One player named Sun, from Shandong Province, was 
eliminated after organizers said

that he had covered his face with a pillow,

which violated the 
rules.

Yeah, it’s pretty tricky to relive the Covid pandemic and not cover your face.

Another 
contestant named Zhang, from Shaanxi Province,

was disqualified after he turned away from one of 
the cameras while making his bed.

That actually happened on Zhang’s second try.

On his third 
try, the staff accused him of breaking the rules

by covering a can of beer left in the room and 
then eliminated him because touching alcoholic

beverages was considered a violation, even 
though he didn’t drink it.

At that point, Zhang had spent nearly $3,000 on the challenge.

A different Zhang, this one from Shanghai,

spent nearly $14,000 on ten attempts at winning 
a self-isolation prize of around $55,000

and was at one point eliminated

when organizers accused 
him of placing his backpack on a couch in his room

in a way that violated the video surveillance 
rules.

Which is insane! But that’s okay. I’m sure his eleventh time will be successful!

Zhang 
from Shaanxi later told a Chinese outlet that

“a relative told me that this is an outright 
scam”,

adding that “the rules sound simple,

but the challenge pushes the limits of human endurance

and is essentially impossible to complete.”

Now, it makes sense why some unscrupulous companies 
would set up scams like this.

They are able to rake in thousands of dollars in fees from players

that are prepared to take a whole month out of their life,

trusting that they have a fair shot 
at winning the prize money,

when, in reality, the scammers have no intention of letting anyone

prevail and claim the winnings, no matter how many times they try.

Except maybe the 11th time?

Surely, that time’s the charm.

At the same time, given that the scammers are using the footage 
they have collected from former players

to market their schemes to potential new players,

it's 
not unlikely that they are also making money selling some of this footage online,

given that 
China has a market for recordings of people in private settings.

Some hotel owners have even 
been busted for having installed spy cameras

in the rooms they rent out to guests,

enabling them 
to get their hands on footage that they can sell online.

It’s a shocking scandal that I talk 
about in this video.

So, the question is not why crooked fraudsters would set up scams disguised as 
self-isolation challenges

. It’s more a question of why anyone in China would take the risk

and 
sign up for such a challenge,

when the country is a notorious hotbed of tricksters

and home to some 
of the biggest scam networks in the world.

Except for the CCP, of course.

I’m sure communism will 
improve the citizen’s lives any decade now.

Scams have become such a big problem that the Chinese 
authorities even launched

a fraud awareness campaign in the middle of last year.

Although, 
they’re so corrupt I wouldn’t be surprised

if they scammed money out of it while warning about scams 
for money.

But the scams are still thriving, and there’s one big reason why.

You see, China’s 
economy remains in the dumps,

which is hitting young people particularly hard with record youth 
unemployment.

One 24-year-old college graduate recently had to move back in with her parents

when she got nowhere after sending out hundreds of resumes

and failing to pass two civil service 
exams.

She told Voice of America that “it’s been a year since I graduated from university

but I have no income, no savings and no social life”.

No money and no social life?

Hey! I heard 
of a great challenge that should be easy for you to- oh.

Yeah, I see how that’s easy to fall 
for.

Under equally difficult circumstances, many people simply give up and embrace their 
unemployment,

with some even opting to become “full-time children” back home with 
their parents.

Which is maybe the only job where the benefits include Pizza Rolls and free 
laundry.

But many others have to keep toiling, flocking to recruitment fairs across China

along 
with the many thousands in a similar situation in the hope

that it will land them a job.

Some 
also build up mountains of debt in their struggle

to make ends meet until they can hopefully find 
employment

… preferably in a real job that offers Pizza Rolls and free laundry.

That depressing 
cocktail has made Chinese people easier targets for scammers.

Zhang from Shaanxi, who ended up 
spending around $3,000 on the self-isolation scam,

fit the profile perfectly, given that he was 
unemployed and drowning in debt

when he came across the ad for the challenge.

According to 
Chinese media Sixth Tone, when Zhang saw the ad,

“he felt like he’d been offered a chance 
to turn his life around”, but instead,

he ended up with even more debt.

But Chinese 
people are not taking the rip-offs lying down

they’re fighting back against the scammers.

Sun 
from Shandong, who lost 6,000 yuan, about $840,

during his go with a self-isolation challenge, 
sued the organizer and won in court.

Now, ironically, it’s the scammer who’s trying to 
hide his face.

The only problem was that the company behind the challenge

was reportedly 
only ordered to pay him 5400 yuan, about $760, in damages

, which is less than what he lost to the 
scam.

Chinese courts are not exactly known for their fairness,

given that they are firmly 
under the control of the Chinese Communist Party,

but hitting back at scam operations 
spitting out schemes across China

that are being compared to a real-life Squid Game

should 
really be in everyone’s interest – incl uding the CCP’s.

Especially considering how favorable 
the situation has actually become for the scam industry these days.

But hey, maybe the CCP 
isn’t actively punishing the scammers

because as scammers themselves, game recognize game.

The 
Chinese authorities have said that the lack of

other job prospects is pushing some students to 
become scammers themselves,

while incidents of young graduates with advanced college degrees

joining scam syndicates have also increased.

So the scammed are becoming scammers themselves.

I knew scammers were monsters, but I didn’t realize they spread like vampires

. Fraudster 
networks with lots of young recruits available,

plenty of potential victims to prey on, and facing 
minimal pushback by the authorities

is not a great scenario for a country.

After all, who wants to 
live in a society where the most realistic job

that people can hope for after graduation is as 
a Squid Game enforcer?

Or would that actually be an upgrade when compared to being an enforcer

for the scammers that are currently ruling China,

leaving people broke and hungry.

But on the 
bright side, That helps them crush this challenge.

And have you ever wondered what’s 
up with college professors and whips?

Yes? Me too! Check out my latest episode of Deep Thoughts 
While Gaming—

about what Indiana Jones teaches us about the life of your average college professor.

Once again, I’m Chris Chappell. See you next time.