He smiled. He had essentially just got himself some money. Sure, there was a fair chance he was wrong, and that he'd just lost ten big ones, but it gave him a little thrill. He had potentially just earnt himself 100 bucks with a few calculations. That wasn't bad pay. He should gamble more often, after all, the stakes were, for once, on the thinking mans side.
He casually wiped a crumb of... Well, he wasn't sure, but it used to be food from his face. He despised bad table manners. It was such a simple thing that too many forgot. He turned to Lou and gave him a quick look of dissatisfaction. Well, tried to. All that facial distortion stuff was so intricate and complex. It came off as more of a cringe than a slight chiding glance. Not that Zach could tell.
He listened to the bookie and his customer doing some rather easy math as if it were difficult, checking their calculations thrice over. He liked the number three. It seemed like a good number, not for any reason, it just seemed interred in his brain that three was good. It wasn't his favourite number, that honour went to the mathematical construct "Googleplex-plex", he liked the little factoids that it carried. Like how if you could write a zero on every atom in the universe, you still wouldn't be able to write it in full.
It was more his "lucky" number. Though luck was just an illusion, three stood right on the good end of the bell curve. B003 - Jeffery Grand was the first man to escape SOTF, and G03 - Tiffany Gretchin was the single most devastating player of all time, having gotten out twice, with a kill count of 27. And she was originally pegged as fanservice. If he got the B003 tag, he would die a less sad man.
He confirmed their use of multiplication with a concise nod as he pocketed his notebook once more.
"That's just the way of war I guess. It's written by the winners, so the martyrs of the enemies are labelled as madmen, and the fools who rush in are hailed as heroes" he said, articulating the point carefully, before pulling out a dramatic, gruff voice for the finale. "And war, War never changes"
He loved that game, Fallout. One of the ones his Dad seemed to detest, as it never took itself too seriously, which he was glad for. He played them for escapism from his fairly shit life, not as an actual life as so many seemed to.
His smile widened as he waited to see who among them was truly geek, and who would fail to recognise the immortal tagline.