Gaspar Prim Díaz was born on 28 December 2002 and grew up in Buenos Aires. He became, as Gaspi, one of the largest digital creators Argentina has produced, and he did it with almost no equipment: a phone, a suit, a red tie and a willingness to walk up to strangers.

The raspy voice and the greeting — “Buenass” — were the whole brand. People in Buenos Aires recognised him before they recognised the channel name, and by the middle of the decade the audience had spread across Latin America and into Spain, the crossover most Argentine creators never manage. He died on 14 June 2026, aged twenty-three, as Euronews reported.

He opened a YouTube channel in late 2013, as a ten-year-old, and it went nowhere for years. The traction came on Instagram instead, where short clips suited both the format and his instinct for the quick, awkward exchange.

That period earned him nothing to speak of. Instagram paid creators almost nothing directly then, and a teenager posting clips in Argentina had no advertising inventory worth selling. Our estimate for everything before 2021 is a four-figure sum, which matters only because it establishes that the whole fortune was built in five years rather than ten.

The breakthrough came in 2021, when he went back to YouTube with street interviews: approach a stranger, ask something uncomfortable, let the reaction carry the video. It was crude, funny and enormously shareable, and it built a channel that passed 2.8 million subscribers on comparatively few uploads.

Here is the money from the craft, which for a creator means advertising revenue, brand integrations and appearance fees. Spanish-language advertising in Latin America pays badly by American standards: a blended revenue-per-thousand of $0.60 to $1.50 is realistic for his mix of long videos and shorts, with the Spanish share of the audience pulling the average up. Our estimate is that a peak year of 30 to 60 million views returned $25,000 to $80,000 of platform advertising — a small number for an audience that size.

Brand work was the bigger half. An Argentine creator at the top of the market prices an integration at $3,000 to $15,000, and a channel with his reach can carry ten to twenty-five a year, giving $60,000 to $300,000 annually at the peak. With merchandise and paid appearances added, our estimate of his total gross career income across 2021 to 2026 is $650,000 to $1.5 million.

The single largest thing he did was step into a boxing ring. On 26 July 2025 he fought the Spanish creator Perxitaa at La Velada del Año V, Ibai Llanos’s creator boxing event, at La Cartuja stadium in Seville. He lost by technical knockout inside the first round.

The defeat did not matter to the numbers. the event’s own record put the fight at 7,814,194 concurrent viewers, more than the evening’s main event and the most-watched thing he was ever part of. Infobae framed the appearance as a reinvention: he had stepped back from making videos during a difficult period and came back through the ring rather than the camera. Our estimate of the fighter fee is $25,000 to $70,000 plus expenses, but the value was the audience, which reset his brand rate for the year that followed.

In Argentina he was a genuine street-level celebrity, which is a specific kind of fame for someone whose work consisted of stopping people in the street. The suit-and-tie uniform was a joke that became a costume and then a trademark.

Outside Argentina he was better known to a Spanish-speaking internet than a mainstream one, and the Velada booking changed that: a Seville stadium, a Spanish audience of millions, a peer group of European creators. Spanish creators counted him as one of their own, among them Rubius, who said Gaspi had let him use his music freely.

Sponsorship was his largest income line, as it is for most creators outside the United States. The advertisers were the ones that chase a young Argentine audience: telecoms, delivery apps, gaming and betting platforms, snack and drink brands.

Our estimate for the whole period is $350,000 to $900,000 gross, which is more than half of everything he earned. The rate moved twice: once when the street-interview format found its audience in 2021 and 2022, and again after the Velada appearance put him in front of a Spanish market where the same integration is worth several times more than it is in Buenos Aires.

The operation was him rather than a firm, and the reason is partly economic. Argentina’s currency and capital controls make retained profits hard to hold and hard to invest, and creators there convert income into dollars or property rather than equity. What he ran instead was lean: himself, a phone, a small crew for bigger productions, merchandise drops when the audience wanted them. Our estimate of the merchandise line is $40,000 to $120,000 of gross margin across the run.

The asset picture is the one a twenty-three-year-old in a high-inflation economy ends up with. Cash in pesos loses value fast, so the sensible thing is to hold dollars or to buy bricks, and Argentine creators overwhelmingly buy bricks.

Our estimate is that he held a Buenos Aires apartment worth $120,000 to $300,000, most likely bought outright since Argentine mortgage lending has been minimal for years, plus a vehicle, filming equipment and dollar savings. That is the whole of it, so his estate was small in absolute terms and unusually liquid for its size.