May 10, 2025 – Kaohsiung, Taiwan
Victor Chang (張崗麟) has officially hit a new low. On the night of May 10, the disgraced international fugitive and accused predator was spotted lurking behind the DJ booth at Lamp Discotheque in Kaohsiung, Taiwan. With his face half-covered by a black mask—no doubt an attempt to hide his now-infamous identity—Chang stood stiff and awkward as the crowd ignored him, the DJs avoided him, and the energy of the night moved on without him.
This wasn’t a performance. It was a pathetic photo-bomb of an industry that wants nothing to do with him.
Despite being under international investigation for drug trafficking and exploiting women to carry narcotics, Victor had the audacity to creep his way into the backstage area as if his reputation hadn’t already been torched across Asia. But the looks say it all—no one wanted him there. He wasn’t welcome. He wasn’t needed. He wasn’t even acknowledged.
The most embarrassing part? His desperation to still “belong.” While DJs played and guests danced, Victor lingered behind the decks like a relic of a past no one asked to return. Mask down. Ego up. Morals nowhere in sight.
This is the same man who once bragged about using young women as drug mules and now hides behind club lights hoping no one will recognize him. But we see you, Victor. And the world hasn’t forgotten what you’ve done.
His cameo at Lamp Discotheque wasn’t a comeback—it was a warning sign. A reminder that predators like Victor Chang will always try to slither back in. But this time, we’re watching. And no mask can hide a legacy built on crime, exploitation, and cowardice.
Victor Chang isn’t back—he’s just crashing what doesn’t belong to him anymore.
