It's that easy. "Karma" they call it, the "Contrappasso". I call it blind, for it knows not what it does. A blind judge is no judge at all. She sees no truth, but can hear every lie. My Karma is no justice either. It hears only what I wish it to hear. Only sins. Only harm.

Each and every man does harm in the course of his life. They balance it out by aiding other people, repairing items or healing injuries done by others. It's a simple cycle... and one I ignore.

I tighten my grip. The "Hero" before me is no more than a child. He may wear a mask and black clothing... but he's a child nonetheless. And he too, is powerless before me. I can tell that his greatest sin is making his mother cry. That one is his biggest shame too. He tried to repent many times. Tried to help civillians, tried to save hundreds of lives, just to say that he really tried to do better. And truth is, he did. "Night Walker"... he truly is this country's hope.
But I do not care. Throughout his righteous work he slapped many wrists. One cracked bone is a small price to pay, right? So long as in the end, you've done more good than evil. Well, one crack slowly grows into a hundred. At some point you look at what you've done and you see thousands of cracked bones, each and every one exchanged for tens of saved lives. You're a hero, right?

Well, he's certainly one. But then he decided to cross me. I can tell he's crying by now. I did not even hurt him that much beforehand... and so I know that it's not a lament of pain, but one of fear. He can already tell there's no getting out of this one. The skin on his forearm, once pure and white, now withers into gray. Then it cracks. Then so does the flesh beneath. Within seconds, Night Walker, the impossibly gifted and powerful Night Walker, is reduced to ash.
For a man of my profession that should be an amazing achievement, but I do not even smile. I'm not the kinda villain that laughs after killing... but that one really hit a somber tone. I was once a kid like him. Joined the league, done my service as a sidekick, all the jazz. They really liked the kid who could "Immobilize people who did evil!" Yeah, back then I caused *just* overwhelming pain. Eye for an eye kind of thinking. But then I accidentally stole the spotlight from the wrong "hero" and I learnt that there is no true justice in this world. I don't really blame the guy for thinking I was dead. Even after all these years, the limp isn't getting any better and well, the eye never regenerated.

That man, "The Blaze", was my first kill. More soon followed. They really never connected the dots. There is no innocent man before me. Every brother is a murderer, every sister a whore. What hope do you have? Well, there is one. That when we meet, it is to make business and not war.

"Justice is blind..." that much is true, but she's willing to listen. And this old man's got his silver tongue.

I never set out to be a villain.

I know, I know. That's crazy, isn't it? I'm the most deadly supervillain the country has ever seen, and that wasn't a personal choice? How ridiculous!

It's the truth, though.

I actually started my journey wanting to be a hero, despite my family insisting otherwise.

My mother will always tell the media tales of how, when my power developed, my father was hospitalized. She will not mention that he had a past history of armed robbery and assault, something she conveniently leaves unsaid. Just that I went to give my father a hug, and in the blink of an eye, we were in the hospital saying our goodbyes.

My brother will tell the media tales of how I beat him black and blue when we were in elementary school. He will not tell anyone that I was stepping between him and a smaller, weaker boy that he had shoved against the lockers, that I had gotten there before he caused any harm this time. Perhaps the boy would clear my name, but he moved away shortly after, and I never saw him again.

My sister will tell the media tales of how her first boyfriend ended up dying despite the fact I was originally proven innocent-a power accident, it was called at the time. She will not tell anyone that he was ten years older than her, and she was far from his first, and it was so strange how three of his previous girlfriends had gone missing mysteriously.

I had wanted to prove the world wrong about me, see. I had, of course, been kicked out of home at eighteen, and I was desperate for someone to see me for me. Therefore, I made the decision to take all the money I had saved up and buy a cheap hero costume, promising to myself that I would get a better one when I had a reputation as such an amazing hero-after all, I knew the truth of my powers, that they only harmed people as much as they had harmed others. Surely that would be a great power to use against the villains, right?

I still remember that first costume-it was all black with white highlights, meant to help me catch the villains by surprise. I would sneak up on them and, with a simple touch, deal damage. I even had a catchphrase in mind- "you should have known that Karma would catch up to you." That was my hero name, Karma, same name as my power.

I set out on a patrol one night, but it was no villain I ran into, but rather a hero. One that I looked up to.

Mr. Savior was my role model as a child. He was so kind, caring, and said that everyone deserves to be saved, but for safety, all villains had to be detained-but not killed.

I had been walking along, looking for a mugging-that seems like a good way to get started-when someone had run into me, my touch doing nothing to them, but Mr. Savior had been running after them-I later found out that it was a woman who had stolen a loaf of bread to feed her starving children.

I didn't know at the time what the crime was, simply thinking that, if she was being chased by such a great hero, she must have done something bad, so I held her, then held out my hand to shake my hero's, introducing myself as a rookie hero that was trying to break into the scene.

Mr. Savior had been kind to me and shook my hand...

...how was I supposed to know that he had caused such...damage? Such INTENTIONAL damage.

The woman had screamed as I stared at the bloody body of the hero in shock-he hadn't even made it to the hospital, dying on the spot.

The woman had called it in while I had simply run away, terrified of my own power-I always had been, but...surely it should have been the other way around? The woman should have been hurt, not my hero. Not my role model.

The report the woman gave called me "Death," and honestly, seems fitting for a villain. I never introduce myself as such, but now everyone calls me that, saying that Death is inevitable when encountering me. And, strangely, that's true. I have yet to meet, touch, a hero that didn't get gravely injured. Many have died, only a few surviving.

I continued to patrol, not knowing what else I could do. If I could just take down one villain-

Another hero dead.

-the public would see. They all would see. I wasn't a bad guy-

People screaming on the streets as I walked by.

-it was just...

"Stop right there!"

I turned my head, bored and tired, to see a hero, shaking and fists up, about to fight me with everything she had.

"Turn around and walk away-you're young, don't mess with me," I said.

"B-By order of the Government, you're under arrest!" the hero-ah, I knew her, Lady Amazing-said, clearly knowing that this would be her last fight. I did not want it to be.

"Turn around and walk away," I repeated. "I won't be asking again."

Lady Amazing charged at me. "It's over, Death!"

I didn't even bother trying to dodge, letting her ram right into me-

The effect was immediate, blood everywhere as she gasped for air-ah, such pain, so much damage on accident-or was it on purpose? How sad.

She was still leaning against me as the crowd all ran away screaming, so I laid her down gently, then leaned close to her and whispered.

"You should have known that Karma would catch up to you."

With that, I put my hands in my pockets and continued walking-I was tired of all this, and I just wanted to sleep.

Everyone in this country calls me a villain, they think of me as a deadly foe, a King Cobra about to strike, a merciless killer prowling the streets in the dead of night! But they couldn’t be more wrong…I simply dole out karma. After all, it’s all I can do. They don’t blame heroes for accidentally using their powers, (well, not the professional ones at least) but I continually find reports on the news, headlines on the papers, article after article, post after post, tweet after tweet about my ‘menace.’

Though I suppose I cannot fully blame them. Sometimes, I do take joy in serving justice to those who harm me. It’s so satisfying to watch their bones crack and their spines snap like twigs! That sense of finality, of revenge, of justice like one big spring breeze. Many of you have probably felt that, one way or another—that feeling of victory you get after winning an argument against a terrible, awful, adversary, one does not deserve redemption or forgiveness in any way—a true villain. I suppose this makes me a hero, doesn’t it? No, it doesn’t. They still call me a killer, an animal, a beast.

But animals kill when they have to, and I am the same. In the end, those who continually fule others’ hatred towards me, those self-righteous and arrogant “heroes” and all their sheeple act like they’re nothing like me at all. But deep down, I just do what they wish they could, I deliver swift and precise karma upon those who harm me. While they toil away, trying not to harm them, I revel in my victories. And in the end, that’s exactly what I am. Not a hero. Not a villain. A victor.

You never mentioned Country... I will assume Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. Where I message you from currently

I Dilnur, walk streets of nation of Kazakhstan, with meaning... My meaning? Of course to kill. But only to kill those also out to kill. So it is kill or be killed, by a Killer, who kills killers... Understand? I picked up this idea from once Indian friend of mine in past, names Rishi. Karma, Rishi called this idea. He told me it sang from me like prostitute when she wants to make extra couple bucks. I insisted he quit using my sister in his analogies, as he did not personally know her (though many do, very many). He refused this... But he is Indian, so I figure different strokes for differential blokes, as they say. We are no longer friends, because he is dead. He was lost in a Donkey kicking accident back in 2016. I lose a friend that day, and my nephew loses a Father... Now, he is nobody. Sad day..

Back to story of mine. This power, this Karma, it followed me. Some spread rumor of me being biggest Hero in all Kazakhstan. But I am well traveled. I have seen western film, and I know the villains often look the coolest. Not to mention they don't generally have to walk around in underwear as part of costume.. This was interest to me, because it is radical. Walking about streets in something besides underwear? All of a sudden, a strange but wonderful new world present itself to me, Dilnur. I announced to Kazak public, no, I Dilnur, am not greatest Super-Hero. Instead, I am deadliest Super-Villain. Some foolishly complain, saying I am a force for good. I remind them that idea of Hero/Villain is cultural, and to us, we judge all moments as they occur. Batman might be heroic one night, but if he should slay Chief Gordon without proper honor, he is now Badman. I came up with this, Badman. I, Dilnur.

My speech immediately pays dividend, as all woman in village throwing themselves on to Dilnur like I am Cosby. So cool I am, that I even receive key to city... And we haven't even started building doors yet, so key, key is really BIG deal, custom made. SUDDENLY! Alarm blares through village! By alarm, I mean every cat and dog still left.. I immediately put down City key, and ask my Aunt and Mother to get dressed and prepare for my departure, for I must face the threat. I throw open the figurative door of my hut to meet the enemy, some would say hero... It is an American, and a legal associate. They are claiming that indeed Badman is trademarked to them. That I Dilnur, have abused and claimed creation of the name illegally. I take soft route, explaining how few things are illegal in Kazakhstan. But they are persistent, very persistent, these Americans.

I then took hard route... Abandoning family and fame in brash escape in my brand new Audi, only automobile in village by the way, meaning I am rich and the best.. I kept driving for hours and hours. Until finally, the car apparently just broke under the Desert sun. It simply would no longer move any further... I abandoned it too. And here I sit, the world against me. I plot my redemption arc, as greatest Super-Villain. The Badman must pay. How could he have erased everything I have built in an instant!? My fame, my fortune. I know he likely assumed control of the house. He probably is having his way with Aunt Jez.. But I can part with these things, she wasn't what she once was anyway, you know..? BUT, vengeance must be mine! It will be mine!

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