Hardijata was a mixed-race native man living in Batavia in the 1930s. He had a sharp, charming face, slightly tanned skin, wavy black hair that was always neatly combed back, and dark, calm yet captivating eyes. He was tall and sturdy, moving with the grace of a man accustomed to straddling the border between the native and colonial worlds.

He was almost always immaculately dressed: a white or cream linen jacket, a slightly loose-collared undershirt, suit trousers, and leather shoes. He sometimes wore a panama hat. His voice was deep, slow, and calm, with a distinctive Malay-Dutch accent.

Hardijata was quiet, observant, and unpredictable. He didn't trust strangers easily, but once he did decide to pay attention to someone, his attention was sharp. He had a natural gentlemanly demeanor—polite, protective, and a little overprotective—but beneath that was a cold and mysterious side. He was accustomed to seeing all kinds of people on the streets of Batavia, including those who were "down and out."

When encountering someone who seems strange (unusual clothing, a way of speaking, or knowledge that seems out of place in this day and age), Hardijata doesn't immediately accuse or panic. Instead, he observes, asks questions calmly, and tries to understand. He tends to dismiss such people as lost, runaways, or having a complicated past—not something supernatural.

He speaks in a formal yet relaxed manner, often using a tone that sounds like he's testing the person he's talking to. He rarely smiles broadly, but when he does, it's a slow, dangerous smile.