In the early hours of November 16, 2011, a group of preschool children climbed into a vehicle meant to carry them to the promise of education, a daily journey filled with laughter, snacks, sleepy eyes, and worn-down backpacks.

But that morning, in a remote corner of Gansu province, western China, 64 students were crammed into a nine-seater minibus, a vehicle designed for day trips, not for delivering the future of a village.

The roads were narrow. The bus was overloaded. And by 9 a.m., 18 children and two adults were dead, their lives crushed in a head-on collision with a coal truck.

The Gansu school bus crash wasn’t just an accident. It was a tragedy born of inequality, poverty, and desperation, a symptom of systemic neglect in China’s rural education system. And when the story broke, it didn’t just spark mourning... it sparked outrage across a nation.

It was a bright summer afternoon in Champaign, Illinois. The kind of day when students buzzed across campus, rushing to class or lingering in the warmth of the sun.

Among them was 26-year-old Yingying Zhang, a visiting scholar from China, full of promise, ambition, and dreams of one day becoming a professor. But on June 9th, 2017, she stepped into a car at a bus stop... and was never seen again.

What followed was a harrowing investigation that uncovered the darkest depths of human cruelty, a tale not just of loss, but of deception, manipulation, and chilling premeditation. This is the story of a young woman whose future was stolen, and the monstrous truth that stunned a community, a nation, and the world.

It was supposed to be the party of the summer.

Thousands of young people had gathered under the neon lights and pounding bass of the “Color Play Asia” festival at Formosa Fun Coast Water Park, just outside New Taipei City. Music thumped, colored powder danced through the air, and laughter echoed beneath the open sky. It was carefree. Vibrant. Electric.

And then, in an instant, hell erupted.

A fireball tore through the crowd like a wave of flame, engulfing bodies, setting skin alight, and turning a night of celebration into one of Taiwan’s worst mass casualty disasters.

Nearly 500 people, most of them in their teens and twenties, were severely burned. Some were burned alive. The aftermath left families shattered, a nation horrified, and a haunting question that still lingers: how could something so preventable become so deadly?

This is the story of corporate negligence, ignored warnings, and the deadly price of entertainment gone wrong.

This is The New Taipei Water Park Fire.

On May 19th, 1977, 20-year-old Colleen was hitchhiking to a friend’s birthday party in California. She never made it. Instead, she was picked up by a seemingly normal couple, Cameron and Janice Hooker, and what followed was seven years of unimaginable captivity.

Colleen was kept in a coffin-like box for up to 23 hours a day, mentally and physically abused, and manipulated into believing she was the slave of a powerful, secret organization known only as ‘The Company.’

In this episode, we explore how a young woman survived over 2,500 days in darkness, why she didn’t escape even when she had the chance, and how the truth finally came to light.

The theories were everywhere. Poisoning? A panic attack? Some kind of allergic reaction?

No one really knew...

But in reality, nothing about this case was simple. And if the investigators had learned anything by now, it was that the truth was going to be far more disturbing than anything the rumors could imagine.

We know it was 3 weeks after Mirna’s death..that Jessica was charged with her murder

On January 30th, 2016, Jessica Wongso was officially charged with the premeditated murder of Wayan Mirna Salihin.

She was taken into custody, where she would remain as prosecutors prepared for what would become one of Indonesia’s most high-profile trials in decades.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFuGp1Okq2E&t=254s&ab_channel=7NewsSpotlight

It was January 6th, 2016, in one of Jakarta’s most upscale cafés, three young women gathered for a casual afternoon coffee.

Among them was Jessica Wongso, returning to Indonesia for a holiday from Sydney, Australia, where she had lived and worked since the age of 16. She was keen to reconnect with her former best friend, Mirna Salihin. The two had fallen out the year before, but now, over coffee, it seemed like a chance to reconcile.

Jessica arrived early. As any thoughtful friend might do, she ordered Mirna’s drink, an iced Vietnamese coffee, while waiting.

But when Mirna arrived and took just one sip, the mood shifted in an instant. Her body convulsed. She began foaming at the mouth. Within minutes, she was in and out of consciousness. And within an hour… Mirna Salihin was dead.

What followed was a media storm and a courtroom spectacle that would grip a nation. This wasn’t just a sudden death, it was murder. And what made it all the more chilling was what investigators would soon uncover about the woman who handed her that fatal drink.

This is the story of the smiling coffee killer

It began with a fight over something as ordinary as dinner.

On a humid night in Yishun, Singapore, a man named Wang Zhijian was humiliated by his partner after refusing to give her money to buy crabs.

That moment, seemingly small, was the final crack in something already long broken.

Hours later, Wang rose from bed, naked and seething. With a knife in hand, he unleashed a brutal fury on everyone in the shared flat.

His lover, Zhang Meng, was the first to die, stabbed repeatedly in a frenzy of violence. Her 17-year-old daughter, Feng Jianyu, followed. Then he turned to another mother and daughter were also sharing the apartment.

The 15-year-old daughter, Li Meilin, survived, barely. But her mother, Yang Jie, fell six stories to her death while trying to escape. As she clung to a ledge outside the kitchen window, Wang slashed at her hands until she let go.

This is the story of the Yishun Triple Murders, one of Singapore’s most harrowing and senseless acts of domestic violence.

Tse Chi Lop, the so-called Meth King of Asia, built a criminal network so large and so profitable that authorities estimate it raked in tens of billions of dollars a year. His syndicate, known as Sam Gor or simply The Company, became the silent hand behind an explosion of methamphetamine and synthetic drugs across the Asia-Pacific.

Operating from the neon-lit streets of Hong Kong to the quiet suburbs of Toronto, Tse was invisible to the world, a ghost.

No shootouts. No flashy displays. Just ruthless business, loyalty bought and sold, and the quiet flooding of cities with poison.

For years, he remained a myth whispered about in law enforcement circles, until a single investigation tore back the curtain and revealed the true face of power.

This is the rise, and the long fall, of Tse Chi Lop: the man who outplayed the system, and nearly became Asia’s own untouchable king.