In the underbelly of Shinjuku’s Kabukicho, where trouble seems to be as constant as the neon lights, a pair of scam artists have emerged who have both caused quite a stir on social media. These women, operating under peculiar nicknames, scam men out of their money with the promise of sex. In a place where nearly everything has a price, these women have flipped the script, exposing just how easily desire can be manipulated into exploitation.
Turtle Dash Yuri
Yuri is a name as fake as the promises she dangles in front of her victims. This woman has become a notorious figure on Japanese X with her exploits chronicled in countless posts where frustrated men vent their rage and share sightings of her in action.
Yuri’s playbook is painfully straightforward: find a target on a dating app and agree to meet for a paid “arrangement.” She then leads him to a rental room — a bare-bones space barely big enough for a bed and a shower. Upon arrival, she asks for payment upfront, usually around ¥20,000. The victim, lulled into a false sense of security, complies. Then comes the humiliating part.
She instructs him to strip, offers a perfunctory gesture of intimacy, and before he can process what’s happening, she’s out the door, cash in hand. This routine has earned her the nickname “Turtle Dash Yuri” on X, where scorned men recount how she delivers a quick kiss and then vanishes. One such victim recounted his misadventure to Friday Digital.
“Her execution was seamless,” he said. “The moment we stepped into the room, she wanted the money, and then she asked me to delete our conversation from the dating app. She had me take off my pants, gave a half-hearted lick, said she’d go to buy some lotion, and just left. She never came back. It’s clear now — she had me strip to ensure I wouldn’t chase her.”
According to numerous social media reports, Turtle Dash Yuri is a near-constant presence in Kabukicho, where she continues her scam with shameless regularity.
Lightning-Fast Lila
Yuri, though, isn’t the only one. Kabukicho’s latest grifter is known as “Lightning-Fast Lila,” or simply “No. 2;” a scammer notorious for her impressive sprints out of seedy love hotels with pockets full of cash. She reels in men through dating apps to rental rooms, takes their cash, and bolts.
Lila, however, doesn’t just flee. She sprints with a velocity that has turned her into a viral spectacle on X. Videos of her racing through Kabukicho’s hotel alleys have made the rounds on social media, with people marveling at her agility.
The name “Lila” comes from her handle on a live-streaming platform. Her preferred hunting grounds are the rundown love hotels near Okubo Park, and her scam involves using mama-katsu, or sugar mommy, apps — platforms ostensibly for younger men to get paid by older women in exchange for dates. But Lila turns the tables.
Here’s the play: young men, duped into believing that they are about to score an easy payday, agree to meet at a hotel. Once inside, Lila spins a new yarn — she’s suddenly interested in a “long-term arrangement” and demands an upfront “contract fee” of ¥20,000. It’s a ludicrous demand, made all the more absurd given the nature of sugar mommy agreements to begin with. And yet, these men pay, blinded by their own delusions.
Lila’s exploits have even caught the attention of a prominent anti-fraud YouTuber, Kenzo, who orchestrated a sting that has since gone viral with over 1.4 million views. In the video, a victim collaborates with the YouTuber to confront Lila and ultimately hand her over to the police. Yet, Lila sticks to her story, denying any wrongdoing even as she’s taken in. Some victims have filed police reports, but without evidence of money changing hands, these cases rarely go anywhere.
A Gray Zone
The reality is that stepping into the world of pay-to-play meetups via dating apps is like wading into quicksand. It’s a murky mess where the lines between consensual exchange and outright exploitation blur beyond recognition. In this space, dubious arrangements — whether they masquerade under the guise of companionship, mama-katsu, or straight-up solicitation — are fundamentally built on shaky ground.
It’s easy to dismiss both victim and perpetrator as merely greedy or naive, but this misses a deeper, more unsettling point. The entire setup is a testament to a broader culture that preys on vulnerabilities — financial desperation, loneliness and the need for validation. And so, when these schemes inevitably implode, you’re left with little more than the bitter taste of your own poor judgment.
