This TikTok battler Majed isn’t a creator, he’s a manipulator, and it’s clear from how he runs his streams. He pushes urgency by telling people to reload their accounts during breaks, making it seem like they’ll miss out if they don’t. The battles run back-to-back so no one has time to think about how much they’ve already spent. If you can’t give, you’re basically invisible, but if you drop big coins, you get a quick shoutout that’s forgotten minutes later. He plays the “we’re all in this together” card, acting like you’re part of a mission when in reality you’re just paying for the next round. He fakes gratitude on stream and drops it as soon as the camera’s off. He’ll claim there are only seconds left to “make a difference” to push last-minute spending. People say he’s vanished mid-stream to do lines in the bathroom, then comes back more aggressive, which just means more pressure on viewers. He plays the leader role so people follow without question, and he knows exactly who’s most vulnerable, with reports of him grooming younger viewers. He even uses the sunk cost trick, reminding heavy spenders how much they’ve already given so they feel locked in. Some defend him with “you don’t have to gift,” but that’s only true for people with enough self-control to resist the layered manipulation. The truth is, Majed takes advantage of the emotional investment he’s built - he makes viewers feel valued only when they spend, slowly grooming them to think that’s normal, until gifting becomes an unspoken requirement to belong. His content is mediocre at best, offering nothing but recycled interactions and surface-level engagement, yet he hides behind the illusion that his large following proves his worth. In reality, it’s depressing to see him as a poster child for the lack of authenticity on TikTok Live, where hype and pressure replace creativity and connection, and the line between entertainment and exploitation has disappeared completely.