Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
There couldn't be a better tip-off system than mine—it wasn't possible—but he had one! Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] I wouldn't take five cents off a legitimate man, but if they want to gamble that's another story. What I am is a genius, and I give you a piece of advice: Do not ever play cards with a stranger. The stranger might be me. Where there are degenerate card players around, I sometimes get a call. Not dice—I The other thing is the transmitter I carry around. My partner was a fellow named Henry. He had an electronic surplus hardware business, but business wasn't good and he was looking for a little extra cash on the side. It turns out that the other little wholesalers in the loft building where he has his business are all hand I had to be nearby, but I had to keep moving so he wouldn't pay attention to me. memorizing, but it was worth it. Henry knew every card the other man held every time. And I got fifty per cent. He laughed not only when the mark made some crack, but a lot of the time when he didn't. It got so the customers were looking at him with a lot of dislike, and that was bad for business. called him, "lay off. Never rub it in to a sucker. It's enough to take his money." He ran his fingers back along his hair. "Can't a fellow express himself?" I gave him a long, hard unhealthy look. Express himself? He wouldn't a wheel, and he looked it. He was red-faced, with hanging jowls and a big dollar cigar he announced that he only played for big stakes ... and, nodding toward the kid and me, that he Because we still had a chance. With the field glasses and Skippy's young, good eyes to look through them, with the transmitter that would carry an extra hundred yards easy enough—with everything going for us, know that's all. I'll take care of the rest." I'll say this for him, duck-tail haircut and all, he settled right down to business. I made myself comfortable on the bed and rattled them off on the transmitter as he read the cards to me. I couldn't see the players, didn't know the score but if he was giving the cards to me right, I was getting them out to Henry. I felt pretty good. I even began to feel kindly toward the kid. At my age, bifocals are standard equipment, but to judge from Skippy's fast, sure call of the cards, his eyesight was twenty-twenty or better. After about an hour, Skippy put down the glasses and broke the news: "That's all right. I know you're there." I blinked. This was a creep! But I had to find out what was going on. I said, "You made a mistake, kid." "Running out?" He shrugged. "It's not the first mistake I made," he came before that." I said, "You can always quit," but then stopped. Because it was a lie. He couldn't quit—not until I found out how he read Chapo's cards through a drawn shade. kid me about Henry—I know. I'm not so sure about you, but it wouldn't surprise me." "What are you talking about?" "I can hear every word that's on Henry's mind," he said somberly. "You, no. Some people I can hear, some I can't you're one I can't." "All my life," said Skippy, "I've been hearing the voices. It doesn't matter if they talk out loud or not. Most people I can hear, even when they don't want me to. Field glasses? I didn't need field glasses. I could hear every thought that went through Chapo's mind, clear across the street. Henry too. That's how I know." He hesitated, looking at me. I said, "Prove it." The kid finished his coffee. "Well," he said, "you want to know what the counterman's got on his mind?" He leaned over and whispered to me. I yelled, "That's a lousy thing to say!" Everybody was looking at us. He said softly, "You see what it's like? I he said about Henry holding out on me made it real serious. I had to have more proof. But I didn't like Skippy's idea of proof. He offered to call off what everybody in the beanery was going to do next, barring three or four he That's a twenty-four-hour place and the doorman knows me. I knew Jake and I knew his roulette wheel was gaffed. I walked right up to the wheel, and whispered to the kid, "Can you read the dealer?" He smiled and nodded. "All right. Call black or red." his place you can still bet for a few seconds after the wheel starts turning. "That's it." "Take your best shot," he said glumly. "But mark my words. You're not going to make out on your own." "I won't be on my own," I told him, and left him then. By myself? Not a chance! It was going to be Skippy and me, all the way. Not only could he read minds, but the capper was that he couldn't read mine! Otherwise, you can understand, I might not want him around all the time. But this way I had my own personal bug in every game in town, and I didn't even have to spend for batteries. Card games, gaffed wheels, everything. Down at the track he could follow the smart-money guys around and let me know what they knew, which was plenty. We could even go up against the legit games in Nevada, with no worry about bluffs. people, why he laughed at jokes nobody else thought were funny, or even could hear. But everybody has got to like somebody, and I had the edge over most of the human race. He didn't know what I was thinking. And then, take away the voices in his head, and Skippy didn't have much left. He wasn't very smart. If he had half as much in the way of brains as he did in the way of private radar, he would have figured all these angles out for himself long ago. No, he needed me. And I needed him. We were all set to make a big score together, so I went back to his However, Henry had more brains than Skippy. I hadn't told Henry who tipped me off, but it didn't take him long to work out. After all, I had told him I was going out to look for Skippy, take much brains. All he had to do was come around to Skippy's place and give him a little lesson about talking. with lumps on his forehead and a stupid grin on his face. I woke him up and he recognized me. But you don't make your TV set play better by kicking it. You don't different now. I mean—it isn't English any more. In fact, it isn't any language at all!" Like I say, I'm a genius. Skippy wouldn't lie to me he's not smart enough. If he says he hears voices, he hears voices. Being a genius, my theory is that when Henry worked Skippy over, he jarred his tuning strips, or whatever it is, so now Skippy's receiving on another frequency. Make sense? I'm positive about it. He sticks to the same story, telling me about what he's hearing inside his head, and he's too stupid to make it all up. There are some parts of it I don't have all figured out yet, but I'll get them. Like what he tells me about the people—I guess they're Only that's wrong too, because he says they worship two moons, and everybody knows there's only one. But I'll figure it out I have to, because I have to get Skippy back in business. to Henry when I see him. And I never his kind.

<question>:
At the beginning of the story, the narrator states, "what I am is a genius."  This statement

<options>:
A Is ironic because there was nothing genius about how he handled the situation with the kid.
B is completely wrong because he allowed everyone to get over on him in the end.
C Proves to be true because of the schemes he comes up with.
D Proves to be true because he knows how to read people and knows who to trust.

<answer>:

A