Leon stared at his phone, the bus rattling down the dark motorway.
The celebratory noise from his team, his 'single-digit-heroes', was a happy, distant buzz.
It was a text message from Professor Antonio Bianchi. It was a 'pass-mark'.
He was still staring at it when he walked into the 'war-room' the next morning.
Biyon was already there, his leg propped on the desk, a 'Welcome-to-Single-Digits (-9)' banner (made of old printer paper) hanging crookedly on the wall. Walter was, as usual, just... 'present'.
"He's obsessed!" Biyon roared, as Leon showed him the phone. "Completely, totally, 100-percent 'obsessed-with-you', Leo! He's a 'fanboy'! A 'Bianchi-fanboy'! He's probably writing a 'thesis' about you right now! 'The-Beautiful-Psychology-of-the-Chaos-Gaffer'!"
"He is… 'studying'," Walter Samuel rumbled, not looking up from his 'match-data' (a very muddy notebook). "The 'avalanche'… 'changed'. It was not 'blunt'. It was... 'smart'. He is... 'intrigued'."
