The followers were credibility. That's how they got access.
En Madrid, dos jóvenes conocidos como 'Los Petazetaz' fueron detenidos en enero de 2024 acusados de drogar y agredir sexualmente a al menos cuatro menores de edad, a quienes habrían atraído mediante su popularidad en TikTok. Su caso no es solo el de dos individuos que abusaron de su posición, sino el reflejo de una grieta estructural: la velocidad con que las plataformas digitales amplifican la influencia supera con creces la capacidad de detectar y frenar el daño que algunos ejercen desde ella. La fama, cuando carece de rendición de cuentas, puede convertirse en un instrumento de depredación.
- Al menos cuatro menores fueron drogadas y agredidas sexualmente en un domicilio de Vallecas, en lo que la investigación policial describe como un patrón calculado y reiterado de abuso.
- Los agresores utilizaron su popularidad en TikTok —más de 400.000 seguidores— como señuelo de confianza, explotando la admiración que los jóvenes depositan en los creadores que siguen.
- Tras hacerse pública su detención, los acusados comenzaron a borrar o privatizar sus perfiles, aunque algunos permanecieron activos con mensajes crípticos como 'Volveremos pronto'.
- El caso pone en evidencia la escasa capacidad de TikTok para identificar comportamientos predatorios entre sus creadores, a pesar de monetizar activamente su alcance y visibilidad.
- La justicia española avanza en el proceso, mientras el debate sobre la responsabilidad de las plataformas digitales en la protección de menores cobra una urgencia renovada.
Iván y Hernán, conocidos en redes como 'Los Petazetaz', fueron arrestados el 24 de enero por la Policía Nacional de Madrid, acusados de drogar y agredir sexualmente a al menos cuatro chicas menores de edad. Habían construido su presencia en TikTok a través de vídeos virales, colaboraciones con otros creadores y un estilo de contenido diseñado para enganchar: entrevistas callejeras, humor absurdo, anécdotas cotidianas. Una de sus cuentas superaba los 400.000 seguidores. Esa visibilidad les abrió puertas: promociones de bebidas energéticas, invitaciones a discotecas, y con todo ello, una apariencia de legitimidad social.
Según la investigación policial, utilizaron esa reputación para atraer a menores a su domicilio en el barrio madrileño de Vallecas, donde las drogaban y las agredían. No fue un acto impulsivo, sino un patrón: la popularidad como herramienta de acceso, la confianza de las víctimas como vulnerabilidad explotada.
Cuando la noticia de su detención se hizo pública, empezaron a eliminar sus perfiles o a hacerlos privados. Aun así, quedaron rastros. Una cuenta con 400.000 seguidores cambió su foto de perfil por un signo de interrogación y publicó: 'Volveremos pronto'. En el Instagram ya eliminado de Hernán apareció un mensaje que decía: 'Cuando comí, comimos todos. Cuando perdí, perdí solo. Eso no se olvida. Si lo haces, lo pagas'.
El caso deja al descubierto una fragilidad del ecosistema digital: TikTok premia el crecimiento rápido con monetización y visibilidad, pero sus mecanismos para detectar conductas predatorias son insuficientes. Para las cuatro menores afectadas, el daño es irreversible. Fueron elegidas de forma estratégica, precisamente porque sus agresores habían acumulado suficiente presencia pública como para parecer de fiar.
Two young men named Iván and Hernán, operating together as 'Los Petazetaz,' were arrested by Madrid's National Police on January 24th for drugging and sexually assaulting at least four underage girls. The pair had built their following through TikTok, where their viral videos and collaborations with established creators like Sergio Fernández—known online as 'El portero de Tiktok'—had earned them a substantial audience. One of their accounts, @hernycool, had accumulated over 400,000 followers. They monetized their visibility by promoting energy drinks and securing invitations to nightclubs and events around the city.
According to police investigation, the two men weaponized their popularity to lure minors to a residence in the Vallecas neighborhood of Madrid. Once there, they would drug the girls and sexually assault them. The predatory pattern suggests a calculated exploitation of the trust and curiosity that young people often extend toward social media personalities they recognize and follow.
Their content itself was designed for maximum virality—street interviews, anecdotal storytelling, absurdist humor like chasing a goose with a Chinese accent. The formula worked. Their Instagram account accumulated more than 40,000 followers. But beneath the performance was a darker operation, one that weaponized access and fame.
Once news of the arrests became public, the men began scrubbing their digital presence. Profiles were deleted or made private. Yet traces remained. Another TikTok account, originally called @Team Coco and later renamed @tarjetazos, still held 400,000 followers. Its profile picture became a question mark. The bio read: 'We'll be back soon.' A message posted to Hernán's now-deleted Instagram account offered a glimpse into his mindset: 'When I ate, we all ate. When I lost, I lost alone. I'll never forget that. If you do, you pay.'
The case exposes a vulnerability in how social platforms operate. TikTok's algorithm rewards viral content and rapid follower growth with minimal friction. Verification is minimal. Monetization is accessible. The platform's tools for identifying predatory behavior appear inadequate. Young creators can accumulate massive audiences and the cultural capital that comes with them—the invitations, the brand deals, the sense of untouchability—while platforms collect their share of engagement metrics.
For the four girls involved, the consequences are irreversible. They were targeted not randomly but strategically, selected because they were young and because the men who assaulted them had cultivated enough visibility and social proof to seem trustworthy. The assault itself was enabled by a gap between the speed at which influence spreads and the speed at which platforms or law enforcement can identify and stop abuse.
Citas Notables
When I ate, we all ate. When I lost, I lost alone. I'll never forget that. If you do, you pay.— Hernán, posted to Instagram account @henrycool (now deleted)
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
What made these two different from thousands of other TikTok creators trying to go viral?
They had the formula down—absurdist humor, street content, collaborations with bigger accounts. But they also had something else: enough followers that when they invited someone somewhere, it didn't feel like a risk. That's the dangerous part.
So the followers were the weapon?
Exactly. The followers were credibility. A girl sees an account with 400,000 people watching. She thinks, this person is legitimate, this person is safe. That's how they got access.
Did TikTok know what was happening?
There's no evidence they did. But that's almost the point—the platform doesn't have the infrastructure to catch this kind of thing until someone reports it. By then, the damage is done.
Why did they start deleting their accounts after arrest?
Damage control, probably. But also maybe shame, or legal advice. Either way, it was too late. The followers had already seen them. The girls had already been hurt.
What happens to the followers now?
They're left with a void. An account they followed is gone. A person they thought they knew turned out to be someone else entirely. That's its own kind of violation—the betrayal of trust at scale.