Goto didn't quite understand why Tamura insisted he mimic all of the human lifestyle when he had little need of money or luxury commodities, but he assumed she knew things he didn't, which was why he was currently wasting his time in line at a bank when he had a meeting to get to.

The doors suddenly slammed open and several people streamed in, all wearing dark face-concealing masks. He blinked as they completely disregarded the line and shoved their way to the front with guns in hand.

"Everybody get down on the ground!" one shouted. "This is a stick-up!"

Oh. Looks like he was going to be delayed even longer. He checked the clock on the wall and frowned.

He didn't have time for this.

Goto calmly walked over the prone bodies, ignored the men pointing their little pistols, strode up to the cowering bank teller and calmly said, "I need to deposit a check." Before he could pull it out, one of the robbers interrupted him.

"Oy! What do you think you're doing?" The criminal in question moved up beside him and shoved a pistol against the center of his chest. "Listen here, you fancy businessmen think you're so high and mighty but if you don't get down on the ground right now I'll put you in your place with a bullet through the heart!"

"Really," Goto deadpanned, looking down at the would-be robber and his gun. "I highly doubt it."

"What are you doing?" the bank teller whispered hoarsely. "Don't try to be a hero-"

"Shut up," the criminal snarled and momentarily pointed the gun at the teller. He squeaked, ducking out of sight.

"A hero?" Goto repeated. A hero was someone who saved others from dying. He certainly didn't care about the lives of anyone else in the building.

"Are you mocking me?" The man's voice seethed with rage as he turned the pistol back at Goto, who briefly pondered whether he shouldn't have grabbed the gun while its owner was distracted. "Lie down on the floor with your hands behind your head, or I shoot."

Goto simply frowned, genuinely confused. "Why are you focusing on me instead of the—"

A gunshot interrupted him. He craned his head down and stared curiously at the hole in his chest, ignoring the shrieks and whimpers around him. It was unpleasant having a bullet stuck in him, but nothing he couldn't handle. The more pressing matter was his shirt and tie which both now had bullet holes and were covered in soot. At least his jacket didn't need to be replaced.

He looked back up at the quickly paling man. Although he couldn't display obvious Parasite abilities, high strength wasn't exactly Parasite-only. With a cruel grin, Goto shot his hand out and gripped the robber's right wrist before he could escape, then crushed it hard enough to feel bones cracking under the other man's skin as he screamed in agony and dropped the gun from his now-useless hand. As he fell to his knees Goto wrapped his other hand around the criminal's neck, calmly lifted the offender off the ground and squeezed his hand. He barely noticed the choking noises and feeble kicks from his captive attempting to get free.

Then something cracked under his fingers. The man almost instantly fell limp in his grip. He paused, dropped the body and frowned when it crumpled in a lifeless heap at his feet.

Ah, he'd accidentally broken the man's spinal cord. Goto flexed his right hand, decided that he needed more piano practice later, and turned back towards the bank teller without concern. Humans were just so fragile.

"Can you deposit this for me now?" he asked, handing his check over to the staring man.

The teller stuttered and nodded rapidly as he took the check. Goto watched while the other man fumbled with it, the dead silence around them barely impacted by the sound of machinery working and buttons being pressed. Finally the employee offered him a receipt with shaking hands. He sedately took it, folded it up and placed it in one of his coat pockets, then glanced at the corpse, not wanting to waste fresh meat.

Everyone seemed to move slightly away as Goto stooped down. "W-what are you doing?" stuttered one of the other hostages, watching him toss the dead body over his shoulder carelessly.

As he strode out of the bank, he answered without even a look back at the myriad of guns and stares pointed at him. "I'm disposing of the body, of course."