"..."
"What is this thing?"
Rebecca poked the Black Statue in Havel's hand. It looked cheap—like a resin knockoff you'd find in a tourist trap, not a priceless artifact.
"We fought giant bugs for this?"
"It's a key," Havel sighed, tucking the statue into his pack. "Or part of one. There should be a White Statue—the Statue of Good—somewhere else. We need both to balance the scales in the Main Hall."
He looked at the heavy doors surrounding them.
"Honestly, Spencer was a cheapskate. Instead of high-tech keycards, we get stone dolls and riddles. If I had known it would be like this, I would have brought a lockpick set. Or better yet, a hydraulic breach tool. Who needs a statue when you can just shear the hinges off?"
Havel grumbled as he checked his map. He hated fetch quests.
"Wait."
Billy interrupted, patting his pocket. "We missed a spot. Or rather... I found something earlier and forgot to mention it because of the bugs."
"There's a room nearby with a lift mechanism. I saw it when we were scavenging."
Havel and Rebecca looked at him, confused. "A lift?"
"Yeah. And I found the key for it."
Billy reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy, rusted metal object. It was a square-headed crank with a wooden grip.
"Crank Handle," Billy said, holding it up. "I found it in a cabinet. At first, I thought it was for a giant clock, but looking at the teeth... it's for a winch system."
He grimaced slightly, rubbing his thigh.
"And thank god we can use it. Carrying this thing around is a pain. It's heavy, and the shape is... awkward. If I kept it in my pocket much longer, people might get the wrong idea."
Havel snorted. "Alright, big guy. Let's see this lift."
The Library Lift Room.
Billy led them to a small side room off the main corridor. Inside, nestled in a cage of wrought iron, was a service lift.
It was ancient. Instead of an electric motor, it relied on a massive set of gears and a chain drive. A socket on the wall waited for a crank handle.
"Seriously?" Havel stared at the mechanism. "Umbrella builds a state-of-the-art lab underneath, but puts a medieval dumbwaiter on the ground floor? What is this, Castlevania?"
"It's mechanical," Billy shrugged. "Means it works even if the power is cut. Smart, actually."
"It's manual labor," Havel corrected. "And it looks like it can't take all three of us."
The platform was small. And someone had to stay on the ground floor to turn the crank.
"I'll do it," Havel volunteered, rolling his shoulders. "I've got the best stamina. You two get on."
He took the crank handle from Billy and slotted it into the wall socket. It fit with a satisfying clunk.
Billy and Rebecca stepped onto the platform.
"Are you sure?" Rebecca asked, looking worried. "We're splitting up?"
"It's the only way to reach the second floor from this side," Havel said. "Don't worry about me. I'm the heavy weapons guy, remember?"
He gripped the handle with both hands and began to turn.
CREAAAAK...
CLANK... CLANK...
The gears groaned in protest. The chain pulled taut. Slowly, the platform began to rise.
It was heavy. Damn heavy. Havel gritted his teeth, the muscles in his arms bulging as he forced the rusted mechanism to turn. His face flushed red behind his gas mask.
"Billy!" Havel grunted through the exertion. "Watch Rebecca's back! Don't let anything eat her!"
"Got it," Billy called down, racking his shotgun. "See you on the other side, Genius."
The lift rose higher, passing through the hole in the ceiling until they disappeared from view.
CLUNK.
The lift locked into place on the second floor.
Havel let go of the handle, shaking his aching arms.
"Phew..."
He was alone.
The silence of the facility pressed in on him.
Usually, splitting the party in a horror movie was a death sentence. But for Havel?
He cracked his neck. A vicious grin spread beneath his mask.
"Finally."
"No witnesses."
With Rebecca and Billy gone, he didn't have to pretend to be a normal human anymore. He didn't have to worry about protecting the "medic" or hiding his System abilities.
He looked at his minimap. There were still red dots scattered across the first floor—zombies and creatures they had bypassed or missed.
"Time to farm," he whispered, racking his M1897. "I need some upgrades."