Blood on the Feathers: The Vanishing Sabungeros and the Philippines’ Descent into Corruption

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — June 29, 2025

MARLYN Germar’s trembling hands clutch her phone, frozen on her son Glenn’s last WhatsApp message: “Ma, I’m at the arena. Be home soon.” That was January 2022. Glenn, a 34-year-old cockfighting enthusiast, never returned. Marlyn’s heart now falters under stress-induced heart failure, her anguish mirrored by dozens of families across the Philippines. Over 100 sabungeros—men who thrived on the raw thrill of cockfighting—have vanished, their bodies allegedly swallowed by the acidic depths of Taal Lake, according to a chilling whistleblower account. What began as 34 missing in 2021 has exploded into a suspected mass murder, exposing a nation where systemic corruption and organized crime feast on the poor.

A Trail of Broken Families

The human cost is devastating. In San Pablo, Laguna, Ricardo Lasco was ripped from his home, leaving his children fatherless. In Hagonoy, Bulacan, brothers Jeffrey and Nomer Depano vanished after a Lipa cockfight, their mother tormented by silence. Families face relentless harassment—strangers at their doors, legal threats—while mothers like Marlyn collapse under the weight of uncertainty. “I just want to know where my son is,” she told GMA News, her voice cracking. The scale is staggering: what was initially 34 missing is now feared to exceed 100 deaths, a grim testament to a syndicate’s brutal efficiency in erasing the vulnerable lured by e-sabong’s false promise of wealth.

The Syndicate’s Stranglehold

The Department of Justice (DOJ) is unraveling a “mafia-like” operation with “staggering” financial power, one that brags it can bend even the Supreme Court. Justice Secretary Jesus Crispin Remulla, in a June 2025 briefing, exposed a syndicate so entrenched it controls e-sabong ventures across Luzon, with local governments needing its approval to operate. At its core is gambling tycoon Charlie “Atong” Ang, vice president of Lucky 8 Star Quest Inc., whose arenas hosted many of the vanished. Witnesses, including whistleblower “Totoy,” implicate Ang, though he denies involvement, claiming a conspiracy by rivals like Bong Pineda of Belvedere Corp. “It’s a setup,” Ang told SunStar.

Totoy, now under police protection, revealed a horrifying operation: hitmen paid ₱500,000 per kill, their payments logged in vouchers like a corporate ledger. Bodies, he claims, were dumped in Taal Lake’s geothermal waters, where evidence dissolves in depths beyond 170 meters. The syndicate’s influence is vast, with 20 police officers under investigation for complicity, part of a shadow network shielding the killers. Remulla’s stark warning—“This is like going after the mafia”—underscores the danger. The mastermind’s boast of swaying the Supreme Court prompted Remulla to seek a meeting with Chief Justice Alexander Gesmundo, a bold move to confront judicial corruption head-on.

A System Built to Fail

The Duterte administration’s complicity is undeniable. E-sabong, licensed by the Philippine Amusement and Gaming Corp (PAGCOR), was championed as a revenue juggernaut, generating ₱640 million monthly in taxes. Its “social costs”—addiction, debt, and now mass murder—were ignored until public fury forced a May 2022 ban. PAGCOR’s oversight was a sham: arenas lacked CCTV, game-fixing was rampant, and illegal operations persisted post-ban. The Senate’s probe has been agonizingly slow, with only three officers indicted for Ricardo Lasco’s kidnapping and warrants for six Manila Arena guards. A 2023 complaint was dismissed for “lack of evidence,” leaving families like Marlyn’s in despair.

Remulla’s Defiant Stand

Against this backdrop, Justice Secretary Remulla shines as a pillar of resolve. His transparency—working with Totoy, coordinating Navy dives in Taal Lake, and vowing to challenge judicial interference—sets him apart. “There are serious challenges when money and influence are involved, but we are not backing down,” he told the Philippine News Agency. His reformist record, from securing ISO certification for Cavite to establishing prosecutorial integrity boards, bolsters his credibility. Remulla’s fight is personal: he’s confronting a system where the poor are pawns, and justice is a privilege reserved for the powerful.

A Call to Break the Cycle

President Marcos must act with urgency. First, empower Remulla with a DOJ-led anti-syndicate unit, shielded from political pressure, to dismantle this criminal empire. Second, secure international forensics aid—Japan’s underwater drones could probe Taal Lake’s hostile depths to recover evidence and bring closure to families. Finally, enshrine the e-sabong ban and enforce strict cockpit regulations, barring arenas near schools and communities to choke the gambling culture fueling this violence. The House’s bills, with penalties up to 20 years for violations, are a start, but relentless enforcement is critical.

The missing sabungeros are not just numbers; they are sons, fathers, and brothers, their lives extinguished by a system that profits from their desperation. Will the Philippines finally shatter the cycle of impunity—or will the poor continue to pay the price?