「太子集團」詐騙案的嫌犯僅需繳交最低新台幣5萬元保釋金便能獲釋,引發民眾震怒

2025-11-09

2025年11月初,台灣社會再度因「太子集團」詐騙案掀起強烈公憤。多名該集團核心成員在警方大規模掃蕩行動中被逮捕,但隨後卻傳出這些嫌犯僅需繳交最低新台幣5~70萬元保釋金便能獲釋,引發民眾震怒與網路輿論的爆炸式討論。許多人批評這樣的司法處理形同兒戲,痛斥台灣已淪為「詐騙天堂」與「無人之境」。

根據媒體報導,「太子集團」是一個跨國詐騙犯罪組織,長期在東南亞與台灣之間活動,涉及假投資、境外博弈與人頭帳戶洗錢等多項犯罪。該集團以層層金流洗白、跨國轉帳等手法規避追查,受害者遍布日本、韓國及香港,涉案金額可能高達數十億新台幣。警方在掌握多項線索後展開突擊行動,一舉拘捕多名高層幹部與技術骨幹,原本被視為重大破案進展。

然而,社會期待的「重懲」並未出現。法院在審理過程中以「尚無明確串證」與「嫌犯有固定住所」為由,允許部分嫌疑人以最低5萬元交保候傳。消息曝光後,輿論瞬間炸開。網民痛罵司法過於縱容:「一般人偷一條項鍊都關起來,詐騙幾億卻五萬就放!」、「這不是法治國家,是詐騙者的天堂!」

許多評論指出,這並非首次發生類似情況。此前,東南亞多國曾將詐騙集團成員遣返回台灣,結果警方在機場當場釋放,讓外界震驚。甚至有媒體拍到部分嫌犯當晚便出現在KTV夜店狂歡,毫無懼意。這些荒誕情節成為國際媒體批評的焦點,也讓台灣背負「詐騙鬼島」的惡名。

輿論進一步延燒至政治層面。許多民眾懷疑,背後是否有政商勢力介入,導致司法機關「選擇性辦案」。有網友痛批:「這些詐騙集團一定有人撐腰,不然怎麼可能一次次被放?」、「台灣的司法只會懲罰老實人,真正的罪犯都有人保。」更有不少聲音主張,這些跨國詐騙分子應該移交中國大陸審判,因為在大陸涉詐犯罪通常會被重判甚至判死刑,「讓他們去那邊才知道什麼叫法律」。

各界專家也提出嚴肅警告。犯罪學者指出,台灣司法體系長期偏重「人權保護」,導致詐欺罪難以重罰;而保釋金標準過低,使得犯罪成本極低,讓詐騙集團有恃無恐。法律改革團體呼籲政府應立刻檢討詐欺罪刑度,建立類似洗錢防制法的強制羈押制度,並追查是否有檢警人員或政治人物與犯罪組織勾結。目前,「太子集團」案仍在持續偵辦中,但社會信任已嚴重受損。這起事件不僅揭露了詐騙問題的嚴重性,更暴露出台灣司法體系的結構性弊病。正如一位網友所說:「在台灣,最大的風險不是被騙,而是看到騙子被放。」這句話成為此事件最深刻的註腳,映照出台灣社會對正義與公平的失望與無力感。

In early November 2025, Taiwan was once again shaken by outrage following the arrest of key members of the “Crown Prince Group” (太子集团), a notorious transnational fraud syndicate. The public’s anger exploded when it was revealed that several of the suspects were released on bail for as little as NT$50,000 (about USD 1,500)~700,000—a decision many viewed as an insult to justice. The case reignited fierce debate over whether Taiwan has become a “scammers’ paradise,” where even major fraudsters walk free with minimal consequence.

According to reports, the Crown Prince Group operated a vast cross-border scam network spanning Southeast Asia and Taiwan. Their criminal operations included fake investment platforms, online gambling schemes, and complex money laundering chains that funneled illicit profits across multiple countries. Victims were found in Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, and other regions, with total losses estimated in the billions of New Taiwan dollars. After months of investigation, police conducted a major raid, arresting several top-level operatives and financial technicians—initially seen as a major victory against organized fraud.

But that victory quickly turned hollow. The court ruled that some of the detained suspects could be released on low bail, citing reasons such as “lack of sufficient evidence of collusion” and “fixed residence.” When the details of the bail amounts were made public, outrage swept across Taiwan. Social media exploded with fury:
“People steal a necklace and go to jail, but fraudsters who steal millions walk free for fifty thousand?” one commenter wrote. Another lamented, “This isn’t a country ruled by law—it’s a paradise for scammers!”

 

This incident also echoed previous embarrassments. In past cases, foreign governments deported Taiwanese fraud suspects back to Taiwan, only for police to release them immediately upon arrival at the airport. Shockingly, local media later captured footage of some of those suspects celebrating that same night in karaoke bars and nightclubs. These recurring events have contributed to Taiwan’s growing international reputation as a “fraud island” (詐騙鬼島)—a label that has deeply tarnished its image abroad.

The controversy soon took on a political dimension. Many citizens began questioning whether political or business figures were protecting criminal networks behind the scenes. Online forums and talk shows were filled with accusations: “These scammers must have powerful backers, or they wouldn’t be released so easily.” Others condemned Taiwan’s justice system as biased, claiming it “punishes honest people but shields criminals.” Some even suggested that such fraudsters should be extradited to mainland China, where similar crimes often result in heavy sentences or even the death penalty—arguing that “only there would they face real justice.”

Criminologists and legal scholars also voiced concern. They noted that Taiwan’s justice system, in its effort to protect human rights, has made it extremely difficult to detain or severely punish fraud suspects. The low bail standards effectively make crime a low-risk, high-reward endeavor. Legal reform groups have since urged the government to revise anti-fraud laws, introduce stricter detention rules similar to those in anti-money-laundering legislation, and investigate whether any police, prosecutors, or politicians are colluding with crime syndicates.

As of now, the Crown Prince Group case remains under investigation. Yet public confidence in Taiwan’s judiciary has suffered a serious blow. For many citizens, the case symbolizes a justice system that seems to favor criminals over victims. As one viral online comment put it:

“In Taiwan, the biggest risk isn’t getting scammed—it’s watching the scammers walk free.”

That sentiment has since become the defining quote of the scandal, capturing the growing frustration and helplessness of a society that feels betrayed by its own justice system.