The taxi had just entered the neighborhood when Taylor's anxiety peaks. “Fuck, fuck. Stop the car!” Taylor yells, trying to sound commanding.
The driver slams and the breaks and looks back. “What's wrong? Hey- Hey! You have to pay!” He yells as Taylor exits the vehicle and slams the door.
Taylor activates his movement technique, the Willful Wind technique, and his body is pulled forward and into the air. Taylor speeds forward as fast as he could until he found his house. Fuck, fuck. Will I make it? Taylor asks himself, fearing the worst.
Taylor arrives at his door and kicks it in, not in the mood to fumble with keys. He quickly rushes to the basement and slides open a hidden door. Fuck, are they still here? If not, I’m fucked. Taylor thinks as he opens a cabinet and rummages through the bottles inside. Taylor’s eyes open wide as he finds what he’s looking for. He quickly grabs several of the bottles and carries them upstairs to the bedroom before collapsing onto the bed and letting the bottles fall around him.
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Taylor takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh. If this doesn’t work, I’m fucked. He thinks before deciding to give up and not care. He couldn’t help but take a quick glance at his life. I could have done better… He thinks with another sigh.
A few moments later, three figures materialize out of the air in front of Taylor.
Taylor raises a hand, gesturing for them to pause. “I would stop right there if I was you.” He says before gesturing to the bottles, causing the trio’s eyes to widen; they sensed the immense threat in those bottles. Taylor had made these with the plants that Sylvie cultivated; at first he was just having some fun, but then he got curious at how far these things could go and things got a little out of hand. In fact, it wasn’t entirely safe to even be storing these in the house.
“These bottles are explosive as fuck. Enough to take out the whole neighborhood. So let’s all take a moment to cool down before something dumb happens.” Taylor says with a sigh. At least they paused… He thought, not expecting a good outcome either way.
“What do you want?” One of the men asks. I’ll cooperate for now, little turd, but this isn’t enough for you to escape with your life. He thinks with a frown.
“I want to parle.” Taylor says without another option. “If there’s a way out of this blood debt, I’m willing to take it.” He says, laying it out on the table.
The man raises an eyebrow. “Let me make a call.” He says with a sigh. It’s worth an inquiry, I guess… He thinks somewhat bitterly.