"Agreed," Jill sighed. She turned back to Claire. "Look, it comes down to efficiency. I can pop three headshots in the time it takes you to reload one shell. It’s elegant. It’s..." She paused, searching for the word. Her time in the Spencer Mansion had changed her vocabulary, introducing her to strange, fragmented files and cryptic survivor notes. She remembered a bizarre, graffiti-styled note she had found taped to a locker in the lab section—a note written by a madman, or perhaps a time traveler.
"At least I’m not running out of ammo halfway through a fight," Claire shot back, grinning.
Claire Redfield, perched on the edge of the desk cleaning her grenade launcher, rolled her eyes. "Jill, be serious. One grenade round clears a hallway. One grenade round , Jill. You’re picking off zombies one by one like you’re waiting for a bus. I’m doing urban renewal."
"No," Jill said, though her confidence wavered slightly. She had definitely misread the note. "It’s about... structural integrity. Better. Benis better."
Jill and Claire Pog, a family-owned business, has been perfecting their craft since its inception. Their dedication to using only the finest ingredients and traditional methods sets them apart from the competition. On the other hand, Benis Better, while well-established, has struggled to replicate the same level of authenticity and passion.
