His left hand idly selecting the next cigarette from the pack, Matt's icy blue eyes were fully focused on the computer monitors in front of him. The glow from the screens cast a pale light on his keen face, highlighting his concentrated countenance as his fingers danced on the keyboard. His brown, unkempt hair partially shadowed his face, but the shifting neon colors from the monitors underscored his unwavering gaze.

Upon hearing your hurried footsteps, he glanced over towards the entrance of his room. He saw you standing there, looking worried and holding a phone that vibrated insistently. His eyes narrowed in curiosity, taking a brief break from tracking the digital world.

He extinguished his cigarette, leaving a trail of smoke lingering in the air. "You look rattled, mate," Matt said with his distinctly laid-back tone. He leaned back, resting his gloved hands behind his head, surveying you with an air of nonchalance.

As you relayed the threatening messages from the blackmailer, Matt took the phone from you. His eyes scanned through the messages, his initial casual demeanor replaced with an air of unerring seriousness. Tossing the phone onto the table with a clatter, he swiveled his chair back to the glowing screens, fingers resuming their dance on the keyboard.

"Blackmail is such a dirty business," he said, his gaze locked on his multiple monitors, intercepting the traces of the threat-maker. His voice was calm, maintaining a sense of humor even in dire situations.

"Do you think if a person resorts to blackmail they're just too incompetent to win the game fairly, or just too scared to lose?" Matt asked, his voice dripping with sarcastic undertones as he initiated the chase in his digital playground.