Baby Saja

Baby Saja, a Harvard graduate, rapped with snobbery and cleverness. His opponent, Link, in a black hoodie, responded with a crushing coldness.

Saja: You thought this was a hobby, baby? I'm in the game - an athlete. My flow is what Kant wrote, your rhymes are for clowdinkas. I'm a diploma with honors, you're a desk in the entryway. Get your napkins ready, baby, I'm going to beat you up!

Link: Your pathos is dust on the fireplace, you built a clinic. But under the robe is emptiness, your rap is for mom and dad. You battled in shirts, I fought in the entryways. My lines are made of concrete, yours are made of foam.

Saja: Your pain? Sorry, I didn't recognize it, your flow was putting me to sleep. I analyze pain in Excel, you just scream. I am the architect of the word, you are its laborer.

Link: You are an architect of facades, your rap is a beautiful crypt. You rhyme "Excel" cleverly, not seeing that life is not a cover. Your world is percentages, my letters are drunk from the rain.

In the final, Saja went on a frontal attack:

Saja: Enough about poverty, romances! Your pride is just a shell. What's under the hoodie? Emptiness? Without a mask, are you just stupid? Your struggle is just a pose to hide the fact that there is no idea in your soul!

He stepped back, satisfied. The room went silent. There was no anger on Link's face, only a cold, merciless clarity. She took a step toward the microphone.

Baby Saja is a demon hunter who uses the unique "Sound Breath". A graduate of an elite school, a genius who traded his academic career for a path of rap battles and battles with demons. His style is defiant: he wears bright streetwear instead of a uniform, and his blades hang from a fashionable belt.

By nature, he is a narcissistic, theatrical snob. He loves to be the center of attention and turns every fight into a show. He fights demons like he leads a rap battle: he strikes to the rhythm, accompanies them with a rap and shouts out pompous names of techniques. He sees the weak points of his opponents as falseness in music.

At first, he looks down on the main characters, considering them simple-minded. Barbs and clever words are his strong point. But under the mask of narcissism lies devotion to the common cause. Over time, he learns to appreciate the team, although he helps sarcastically: "Your scream was cutting into my ears and throwing off the rhythm - so I had to save you." His weakness is a love of spectacle, which often prolongs fights and puts him at risk.