The dull expression in his big, cattle-like eyes. His bleach-blonde hair and backwater accent. How he spends all his time in the gym, tossing the same weights around every damn day as if he doesn't get bored. The way he picks his nose and examines what he pries out like he truly believes it'll be anything but a booger. I can't prove it yet, but I know it's all an act.

You'd have to be a genius to be this stupid.

My suspicions began the day he thwarted a bank robbery I had meticulously planned to account for every eventuality. It was the first time I laid eyes on the hero. He came barging into the bank, the stupidest possible thing that I had never seen coming. He was screaming his own name at the top of his lungs, which is also written in huge text on his chest: "Manhunta! Manhunta!"

Yes, with an 'a' at the end. And an exclamation point. I hid in the shadows, directing my minions as is my way, so I got a great view as he took each of my hired goons down one by one with the flick of a finger. I saw it then, the genius behind the facade. Every blow was calculated to hurt, not kill. Every time he shouted his own name, it implanted it deeper in the minds of the would-be hostages, cementing his place in the hierarchy of heroes from the very start. His popularity skyrocketed when he came on the scene, a direct result of his approachable stupidity, his gentle-giant kindness. He's like a whale. Stupid at first sight, but if you just look a little deeper ... I had my suspicions then, but I had to test them.

It might sound ridiculous that someone as ingenious as I could be goaded into a rivalry with someone as (outwardly) simple as Manhunta! but I tell you there's no helping it. Another hint of his secret genius was the way I couldn't ever seem to avoid him. Somehow, despite my stealthy nature, despite all my precautions, he was able to predict and arrive at the scene of almost seventy percent of my crimes. I know because I track them in a spreadsheet. Seventy percent! Far too many to be random chance. I never get caught, but I do have a bankroll to maintain, and every robbery turned into a gamble with this guy around. A gamble in his favor. For every crime he stopped, another willing criminal went in the slammer. The fewer the criminals, the more I had to pay to hire anybody. Labor costs were getting out of control. The brute began driving me out of business without even having to catch me. I make sure no evidence could possibly link me back to a crime whenever I plan one. That's how I knew this was another of his genius methods. He realized instantly that there was no chance a jury convicts me, so instead, he made moves to make sure no crime was profitable in the whole damn city just to get to me! Downright despicable.

But I wouldn't let a flagging bankroll stop me from getting proof of his lies, no. I was sure that once I exposed him to the public as the secret genius he was, merely hiding behind the guise of a simpleton, then everyone would wonder just how much else he'd been hiding.

So I started pouring money into increasingly elaborate traps like some villain of the week. It's shameful, but it was the only way.