At the moment of the explosion, the bank's customers were all over the place.
Some were still confused and screamed subconsciously, some reacted in a hurry and tried to leave the bank immediately but were unsteady because of the explosion, while others immediately sharpened their eyes, stood up sharply, stared at each other for a few moments and suddenly rushed to the second floor.
Kazumi Tsukamoto had no time for others, and even less energy to look around.
She was still a child, in her early teens, an elementary school student, and had come to the bank with her mother to make a deposit.
So: they had a lot of cash on them.
So much so that even before the riots began, Kazumi Tsukamoto had been imitating the TV, peering out like a mole, and looking around her like an alert mole, paying attention to the people around her.
She noticed that her neighbor was a young man, who seemed to have a gentle demeanor, but was actually a bit short-tempered and irritable on the phone.
She also noticed that there seemed to be a lot of depositors around, i.e., people who were looking around as warily as she was.
The fact that those people were not children, but rather strong men, made the scrutiny obvious, and Tsukamoto Kazumi easily noticed it and wondered, 'Even men are so nervous? They must have more money to save than my mother and I do!'
And then she was happy: if we were robbed by bad guys, the bad guys would rob the uncles who had more money first, and they could run away!
That's why Kazumi Tsukamoto reacted as soon as the announcement was made and the riot started, jumping out of her chair and dragging her mother with her.
She clutched her mother's hand, more calm than a grown mother, and ran for the door, whispering, "Mom, protect the money!"
Her mother was calling out to her, "Kazumi, Kazumi, slow down."
Soon, there was no need to slow down.
The whole bank shook as the bomb exploded.
It wasn't that big of a shock, for Japan, where earthquakes happen in three days and five days, it was the kind of shock that you could open your eyes to in the middle of your sleep, and then close them again and go back to sleep.
But it wasn't an earthquake, it was a bomb.
Some people fell to the ground, some panicked and froze in place like parrots.
Mrs. Tsukamoto was one of the former, sitting on her knees with her seat, one hand covering her vaguely contoured stomach, her face white as a sheet, "Bomb, bomb..."
"It's really a robber!"
Kazumi Tsukamoto turned her head, scared and worried, "Mom!"
She wanted to get her mother up and run away with her, but she also wanted to touch her mother's stomach and to be close to her pale mother.
The people around her were in a tizzy, and as Kazumi Tsukamoto gritted her teeth and tried to help her mother up, she saw her mother being picked up by the young man in the next seat and helped to her seat.
The young man's expression tightened and he whispered, "Be careful, the crowd is panicking, there could be a stampede."
He gruffly looked up at those who stood up violently, "Good boy, little friend, your mom is a bit scared, as a man, be brave and protect her, okay?"
"...The radio's on again."
The young man didn't reject the announcement, and his tone of voice was calm, not unlike the unlucky customer who came to do business but had the misfortune of being robbed by a bank.
Kazumi Tsukamoto had a short haircut, and instead of explaining that she wasn't a boy and just had a short haircut, she nodded her head vigorously, "Uh-huh!"
"I'll protect mom!"
In the midst of the chaos, the doors of the bank slowly closed, the radio continued to sound, the voice was a bit careless, "One, two, three, red light, green light, when I do not look at you, you can act as you wish, whether it is to walk, call the police, or escape,"
"But if I look at you, you must stop all movement,"
"If I catch you moving..."
The announcer amplified his laughter, and added, "But there seem to be a lot of people who don't follow the rules and leave the starting line without authorization."
As if to himself, he said, "Let's get rid of the pricks first, then we'll play the game."
Shots were fired.
There were a few more of those who sprang to their feet, some of them stayed in the lobby of the bank, trying to maintain order, identifying themselves as bank staff.
More, about two-thirds of them, well-trained, ran for the second floor, guns drawn.
But they only made it as far as the stairway, and before they could even get inside, they were splattered with red plasma.
The leader of the group was stunned and ran a few steps.
The radio blared, and the speaker mimicked the sound of a gunshot, "Boom!"
He said cheerfully, "Unfortunately, you're dead, valiant officer, please fall down."
The officer looked down at the bloodstain on his chest, his face changed repeatedly, and he finally fell down, faking his death.
The movement and speed of his fall was a bit fake, and if it was a normal moment, it would have made everyone react to it as a fake, or the kind of fake that would make you dissatisfied with the acting if you saw it on TV.
But in the midst of the panic, people only hastened to focus on the most frightening thing: after the gunshots, someone really died!
So the panic was pushed to another level.
As the gunfire continued, screams rang out from the stairway on the second floor, as if someone had witnessed the shooting.
One officer after another fell with a resigned look on his face.
Some of them were shot head-on, they saw their 'moment of death' and what was going on inside the staircase: a man in a bank work uniform was shooting non-stop, and behind him were some of the second-floor customers.
They never thought that they followed the staff is actually a gangster, but also did not think that the gangster actually take advantage of the police sweep over to their line of people to relax their vigilance, unprepared for the moment, suddenly opened fire.
Others were shot in the back.
The last five or six police officers were shot in the back, they did not even react at first, and only after a few seconds of blood splattering did they react slowly, subconsciously reaching out to touch their backs, and touching a handful of blood.
The person who fired from the rear was...
Kazumi Tsukamoto was stunned.
She tilted her head back and stared blankly at the young man who had just kindly helped them and helped her mother up, but was now calmly firing his gun, killing several of the enemies, and then abruptly turning his gun on himself.
The young male smiled apologetically, "You're a hostage."
He carried Kazumi Tsukamoto to his seat, spoke to Mrs. Tsukamoto very quickly, and handed out two business cards.
In the process, he kept his gun pointed at Kazumi Tsukamoto, like a robber holding a hostage and confronting the police.
...But where are the police now?
Kazumi Tsukamoto's mind went blank, his eyes rounded up and he stared blankly at the young man, subconsciously taking the card and realizing that before he knew it, the bank, which had been in a state of chaos, had become quiet again.
Not just quiet.
The radio was talking, and the young, smiling voice, after thanking some of the people for the wrong demonstration, gave a friendly reminder of the correct way to start the game: crouch down with your head in your hands.
Many of the guests immediately squatted on the spot with their heads in their hands, seemingly very skillful.
The customers on the second floor came down and silently crouched nearby.
In just three or four minutes, the bank went from peace, to chaos, to orderly silence.
Almost everyone was crouched down.
The announcer's voice was satisfied. "Excellent."
"So how about we start the game? On the count of one, I'll close my eyes, and you can do whatever you want."
"Three, two, one, please move."
Most of the guests didn't move.
They exchanged panicked glances with each other, and since the citizens of Neon had zero experience dealing with psychotic criminals, for a moment they were a little confused, unsure if what the announcement said was true or if they were just fishing in bad taste.
They weren't sure if they would be shot in the head if they moved.
And: ...how do you determine the 'eyes open moment'?
They couldn't see the robber who was talking, and they didn't know if his eyes were really closed and when they would suddenly open.
The most important thing is that the door of the bank was closed.
If the door had been open, the unlucky customers closer to the door would have gritted their teeth and tried to sprint out, but the door was closed and the glass was bulletproof, so they couldn't get out.
Since there was no way out, and no salvation could be gained by taking the risk of moving around, more people froze their legs and crouched with their heads in their hands.
The only people who acted were the police.
They did not hesitate, or also disguised as ordinary citizens, using cell phones to make calls, or directly with the walkie-talkie call, and part of the people deliberately reduced the amplitude of movement and sound, part of the people deliberately expanded the amplitude of movement and sound, the 'someone called the police' information spread.
The atmosphere in the hall, which was as tense as a tightrope walking on a high wire, eased a little.
Until the announcement came back, "Ding, ding, ding!"
"Oh, I see it. Someone's moving."
"Kenji, the man at your nine o'clock."
Kazumi Tsukamoto saw the man who had come down from the second floor with other guests and was one of the few staff members standing in the lobby move violently, and without hesitation he drew his gun and fired in one direction.
There was a splash of blood.
Most people closed their eyes and screamed before they could even see the face and 'death' of the person who had been shot.
There was a wave of panic and movement near the staff member who had fired the gun, and the hostages moved away from him.
This was actually a move, and until the radio announced that they were going to close their eyes again, it was actually against the rules of the one-two-three-wooden-heads game.
But the radio just named another man's position, not caring about the tide of panic surging, and the staff just shot on command, not shooting at the people at their feet.
He walked quickly towards the vicinity of the 'dead' man, fished out a few pieces of white paper from his pocket, and slapped them on the 'dead' man's face.
There are a few words on the white paper, but the words are aimed at the face shot down, other people can only see through the back of the paper, blurred and upside down words, even the nearby hostages do not dare to seriously recognize what it is, but only hastily glanced at the white paper shot at the 'corpse' upper half of the face, just well blocked the eye area.
The staff went back to the staircase, handing out papers to nearby corpses.
The atmosphere near the stairs was better, as the hostages watched with wide eyes as the staff handed out papers one by one.
For some reason, Kazumi Tsukamoto felt that the hostages in the neighborhood were less afraid, as if someone had stepped forward to calm the others, and some of them dared to talk to their fellow hostages before the staff fired a single shot and disappeared into the crouching crowd, and only then did the people in the neighborhood quiet down again, crouching with their heads held in their hands, and ceasing their small movements.
It's weird.
It's strange that the hostages didn't react instinctively to the presence of a dead body, and that they didn't even react to it with much fear.
But Kazumi Tsukamoto didn't have time to think it through before she tensed up as the young man who had fired the gun approached her.
She watched as the young man walked over to the seat, looked down and spoke to her mother, who had always been a bit weak and timid, but managed to speak, saying something about her stomach not hurting and that she could hold on.
The young man's tone was gentle, "In half an hour at most, you will be able to go out, if there is any discomfort, some pain in the stomach, please raise your hand and tell me, I will immediately arrange for you to go out urgently."
This doesn't look like a robbery.
Kazumi Tsukamoto was bewildered, looking at the young man, and even more bewildered when her mother refused with some anxiety, saying that she could wait, and that she didn't need to go out right away.
The young man nodded, not forcing himself, and noticing Kazumi Tsukamoto's wary and confused eyes, he looked over and whispered something unintelligible, "I just lowered my voice too low, so the kids didn't hear me..."
"I've just sent you a card," He gestured to the white card Kazumi clutched tightly in his hand, his tone gentle, "look at it first, okay?"
Tsukamoto Kazumi stared at him warily for a few moments, then glanced at her mother, and, truly bewildered by the current situation, looked down, glancing quickly.
She met the eyes of a fox.
The fox was printed in the corner of the white card, was looking sideways, the lines outlined the curve of its jaw and fluffy tail, the eyes were a little reddish-orange, like the setting sun, especially narrow, some curved curves, it looks like a living, breathing, relaxed and mischievous fox.
Not scary.
"Look at the reverse," the young man spoke again, his voice lowered as if he didn't want the other hostages around him to hear, "Don't be afraid,"
"Brother is the fox's messenger, and will help the good little friend and her mother."
He slowly raised his hand and in slow motion reached out and touched Kazumi Tsukamoto's head, "I didn't recognize you as a girl just now, I'm sorry."
It's too much trouble to explain to children.
So, looking at the child who was staring fixedly into the fox's eyes, Morofushi Hiromitsu reached out and turned the card in her hand over, "Foxes are very powerful, and my brother is a messenger of foxes, and he's very powerful, too. This card is a substitute card, and if you hold it, in the eyes of the other people, you'll be the one who got shot and died, and you can go out right after the police arrive."
"No one will stop you."
"I'm going to keep order, so be a good boy and take care of your mom, okay?"
Kazumi Tsukamoto stared at the words on the card: "Cause of death: Shot in the forehead.
She flipped the card back again and locked eyes with the red-eyed fox, "...Okay."
"Thank you, brother."
"...Thank you, Fox."