Half the job was done. We were inside.

The guard stepped aside, letting us in, and we moved from a world of darkness into a world of light and wealth. That's exactly how one could describe the feeling of stepping from the street into the not-so-large for a palace white hall, furnished with decor that would never be used. But the modest size was clearly compensated by the cost of the money invested here.

The door closed behind us.

"Come on, guys, I'll show you in."

"Yes, please," Malu nodded, letting him go first.

But no sooner had we stepped inside than the situation took a completely different, much sharper turn. I was expecting anything but this twist.

The moment the guard turned his back to us, Malu immediately pulled a gun from his back pocket and shot the man in the back of the head. No moment of hesitation, contemplation, or uncertainty. Just a cold, swift action, as if he'd done it many times before.

A dry, rather metallic pop echoed through the hall, like someone had set off a weak party popper. But before the guard's body could fall, Malu was already aiming his gun at the maid. She instinctively raised her hands, opening her mouth to say something, though no sound came out.

Alex knocked her out with a right jab. The maid's body dropped to the marble floor like a sack.

"Done," he said cheerfully, his voice not matching the situation. "Damn, why'd you shoot him? Do you think you're a hitman? We wanted to do this quietly."

"I did, too. But this is a different guard," he replied, heading somewhere deeper into the first floor. "I'll check the cameras and the first floor. Box, check the safe, last door on the right, opposite the bedroom. Ali, tie her up and bring her to the second floor so that she's in sight. And put your masks on, just in case."

I barely caught the meaning of their conversation. I was momentarily paralyzed, all my attention focused on the body at the step to the second floor. On the small hole in the back of the head from which blood was trickling in a thin stream.

That day, I saw a corpse and a murder for the first time. I don't even know why I stood up, staring at it as if spellbound. All thoughts... there were none in my head. There was nothing. Just emptiness in my mind. No disgust, no desire to throw up, or anything else that witnesses or murderers usually describe.

Alex brought me back to consciousness with a slap on the back.

"Hey, snap out of it, he's not getting up. Go upstairs and deal with the safe, or Malu won't be happy with you standing around."

I looked at him a little dumbfounded, not immediately coming to my senses, and could only respond:

"Yeah."

"And put your mask on."

I no longer felt any excitement, fear, or anything else. My mind was empty, as if all my emotions had disappeared with the gunshot.

I ascended the staircase, not even feeling it. But as soon as I reached the mentioned door, my senses began to return to me. And the first one was indignation - the door to the target's office had a lock. Not an ordinary one, but such that can be opened with a fingerprint. Moreover, the door itself was reinforced. I wouldn't be surprised if the walls were also bulletproof.

"Bummer..." I mumbled, staring at the small panel with a screen, buttons, and a fingerprint scanner.

Now what? Sure, I'm a master at cracking, but I've never gone beyond cheap, low-quality safes. And here we have a damn armored door with a fingerprint reader panel.

For a moment, I just stood there, stupidly staring at it, feeling panic creeping in.

Alright... Everything's fine. It's just a lock, and we still have plenty of time. I just need to figure out what to do...

What to do... what to do...

The simplest thought, "I need to open the door," helped me somewhat define my next actions. I need to open the door but don't have the key. So, I need to break in without it, which means digging into the guts of this panel. Because if there's a code panel, there must be a way to reconfigure this crap.

Yes, there must be a guide that will help me get into the system, otherwise it's impossible.

And, like any truly smart person, I turned to the internet to search for instructions for this device. Despite what people say, you can find absolutely anything on the internet, you just have to look.

"What are you dicking around for?" Malu unexpectedly appeared, making me jump. I cast a quick glance at him and returned to my phone. He'd already pulled out the hard drives from the surveillance cameras, which were now slightly rattling in a plastic bag in his hand.

Instead of answering, I knocked on the door.

"What?" But as soon as he got closer, he immediately burst into complaints. "Is he jerking us around? Why the hell is there such a door in the office..."

And so on and so forth. I didn't listen, continuing my search for the model of this contraption. And it seemed like I'd found it - a typical magnetic lock where the magnet is on the other side. This guy was either very cautious or a paranoid. But what he definitely did wrong was buying this kind of lock.

While I was digging through the manual, Alex came over, dragging the unconscious body of the maid behind him.

"So, what do we have here?"

"A door," Malu grumbled resentfully. "This dick installed a door with a lock."

"And our plan?"

"Wait until Box figures it out, if he can," he sighed and looked up at the ceiling, where a smoke detector blinked cheerfully. "I could use a smoke right now..." After that, he sighed again and reached into his pocket for his walkie-talkie. "Hey, Syringa, we're online. Can you hear me?"

After a couple of seconds, her voice came over the static.

"I'm online. What happened?"

"We've run into unforeseen circumstances. We'll be delayed, so keep your eyes open."

"Yeah, you could have not told me."

He sighed and put the walkie-talkie back in his pocket, then started to bug me.

"If you hack everything with your phone and a manual, why the hell do we need you? I could do the same."

"Then I can step aside," I replied without irritation.

He'd better find something else to do while I'm here browsing websites for young talents in the criminal world. It's easy to talk, but hard to do.

Aha, that's it…

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

I carefully examined the not-so-detailed instructions, which at least gave a rough understanding of what we were dealing with. Now, we could at least pry open the front panel.

I reached for the screwdriver.

"Listen, Box, where did you even learn about breaking safes?" Malu started to bug me again. He clearly had nothing else to do.

"Not breaking, cracking. I just once read a book, a story about a famous safecracker. It included a description of a way to crack a very simple lock. I tried it, and I liked it. I felt powerful, like there were no barriers in front of me anymore. I could unlock what's locked."

I snorted, remembering that day. I liked discovering something new. Maybe that's why I took a liking to cracking. Because I could open what had previously been closed to me. And, of course, the sense of power, that everything is accessible to you.

"Probably, your fridge was locked, and you learned how to crack it," he snorted. "Did you train long?"

"All my childhood. Read books about it. Cracked all the locks in the house. Not from the first attempt, but eventually - all of them. Then, I moved on to my Dad's safe, which I also cracked with great difficulty.

"Didn't try to crack something at the neighbors'?"

"No. My first job was the teachers' room. And then only that. Sometimes, I tried to crack other locks for variety. Ali probably told you.

"Yes... he told..." he muttered thoughtfully. "Though, if I knew how to open doors, I would've found a more useful application for it.

"Robberies?"

"No, girls' locker room. I would crack the lock, set up a camera and film their boobs and pussies.

"As if you haven't seen enough of them already," Alex smirked.

"Well, that's now, but not then, you blockhead," he waved him off. "And besides, our PE teacher was a hot piece. Got a boner just from the sight of her..."

While they were discussing Malu's PE teacher, I managed to pry off the side panel, under which the screws were hidden. Damn, it was so tightly fitted that I didn't even find it at first. I unscrewed them and removed the front panel. As it turned out, all the guts were on this panel, and on the wall, there was just a bracket, bolted dead, which it hooked onto.

"Malu or Ali, hold the panel before me," I asked.

Alex approached to hold it. Meanwhile, I very carefully examined the insides. A very common board, a small bus, coming to it from the sensor and keyboard, and only four wires that went to the bracket, and from there - under the wall.

I immediately identified the black and red as the power supply for this whole system. But the other two wires, apparently, were either for powering the unlocking mechanism, or for the signal, or... in short, I didn't know. I had to go through the instructions and search for another ten minutes.

"If it goes like this, he'll be back before we finish," Alex muttered.

"And we still have to open the safe," Malu sighed. "Damn, it's a shame we just can't off him.

"Wow, you really act like a wet job," Alex smiled.

"Hell no. There was supposed to be another guard here. Arrow lied. And this one... who knows, maybe he has an impulse? Why take unnecessary risks?"

I understood Malu's concern about it. Those with the impulse were divided into different categories based on danger and abilities.

Some could, at most, release small charges from their finger, accelerate regeneration, or sense the energy field of a living person. They could hit you with electricity, and you wouldn't even feel it. But there were also those who could burn you, your house, and your dog to hell, electrocute you with lightning, and set up an impenetrable shield.

This depended on both the peculiarities of the person, the strength of the impulse, and what they trained in.

The reason for the inaccessibility of certain directions in the use of the impulse is like physical abilities. One can never run fast, and another can never have a good enough reaction to play tennis.

Some simply physically couldn't strike lightning, so they pursued other directions, like controlling their own perception, or just practiced throwing fireballs. Others had access to everything and either developed all skills or just one. And the stronger a person's impulse, the stronger their abilities and learning speed.

As for the strength of the impulse, it's simple. A person with a weak impulse could possess all directions, but the maximum they could do was barely change something. They simply lacked the strength and time to learn everything. Another person had a powerful impulse, which allowed them to calmly progress in any direction and achieve success. This meant that weaker people, even if they had access to everything, still put all their strength into one direction to succeed there, while the stronger ones studied everything.

However, there were still directions that were closed and inaccessible for many. For example, influencing a person or large-scale destruction. If we take the former, everyone has their own so-called energy field, which hinders direct effect - to set their body on fire, stop the heart, break the nervous system. As for the massive destruction - it all came down to the strength of the impulse. Such people naturally existed, but they certainly didn’t lack employment.

However, possessing an impulse is not a sign that you are special. It's like the ability to program. Only a part of the population knows how to program. From them, a part is sifted out, as they do not have the minimum knowledge necessary for work. The rest get a job, but only a part becomes in demand and earns a lot. Even fewer become very demanded by the rich. And only a few are known to the world.

The same with the impulse, you have it - well done. But if it's weak, you will be the same as everyone else. You must reach a certain threshold to be in demand in this regard, even as a security guard. And also not to have attacks, like what happened to my sister.

By the way, I never really pondered over my sisters' powers. As far as I could tell, they had abilities for everything, though I still can't say how strong their impulse was.

Returning to the guard - if he had an impulse and we left him alive, problems could arise. After all, a person who built such a house could certainly afford to hire a capable impulse bearer. Or even if the impulse was weak, he could still cause trouble. For example, set the house on fire.

While they were discussing the guard, I found where these two wires led. One of them supplied power to the lock. The other seemed to be linking the same power to the panel itself. All I had to do was make a bridge to let the current flow to the right wire, so...

"I need a paperclip."

"A paperclip?"

"Yes, to close the circuit."

"Where am I going to get you a damn paperclip?" Malu spread his hands.

"We're in a house. They must have a paperclip. Look, there must be some in the staff room. I'm sure they handle some documents there," I nodded at the maid.

"Fuck... alright, give me a second."

He practically ran down the stairs and returned a few minutes later, holding a whole handful.

"For spare."

"Thanks," I nodded. I unfolded one of them, one end inserted into one cell where the wire went, the other into another. I had to fiddle a little with the paperclip until the door finally beeped friendly, and a green light flashed over the door frame.

I exhaled silently, but Alex turned out to be louder.

"Finally. Damn, I thought we were done for! Good job, Box," he patted me on the shoulder.

Malu, pulling out his gun, cracked the door and peeked inside.

"Clear. Let's move, we have another one to crack. Ali, drag this bitch inside, no point in letting her lie around here. Let's go, Box, heroics await."

As Alex dragged the maid in and blocked the door so it wouldn't close, we found a safe in the most standard place - covered by a painting beyond the desk. Reliable, big safe without any lights, holes, or other nonsense. On the solid door, there was only a handle and a combination dial.

"It seems to me that you won't be able to handle this one with just pushing something," Malu teased.

"Yes. Which means we'll have to saw it manually. Until morning," I nodded impassively.

"Fuck, why did you remind me?" his eye twitched.

As it turned out, the safe was a tough nut to crack. Random sets of known codes for all occasions didn't help, after which I tried to pick it with lockpicks while Malu and Alex looked for instructions. However, after a series of unsuccessful attempts, I realized that I might as well be picking a Bentley with these lockpicks. So, it came down to either guessing or brute force.

"Found it!" Alex exclaimed, making Malu and I jump in surprise.

"Fuck, Ali, shit, I nearly crapped myself!" Malu yelled at him, but Alex didn't even notice.

"I found it. Here, take it!" he handed me the phone cheerfully.

Only I couldn't share his joy. I looked at the description and technical specifications, cursing Syringa more and more for not buying a decent metal-cutting disc. Because now dealing with this crap safe was on me.

"So, what?"

"Nothing. We'll have to bust it open," I shrugged.

"Cut it open," Alex grimaced. "Maybe we can come up with something? Like explosives, TNT, or something?"

"I'll start cutting," Malu muttered, looking strangely at Alex. "Maybe we'll manage quickly."

"If only we had crowbars..." I began.

"But we do have a crowbar."

"Yeah, but we need a small one to hook it and, you know, a big heavy crowbar about one and a half meters long? Like that. Then maybe we could pry it open with brute force," I ran my fingers along the gap between the safe door and the body. Damn, it's too small even to hook. "But, it's also not certain; it depends on the reliability of the safe."

"Seriously?" He squinted skeptically. "You can pry open a safe door with a crowbar?"

"Yes, you can with some," I nodded, examining the safe door. "But you really have to put some strength into it. But we don't have such a crowbar. And then we would have to get the safe out of the wall."

"And what do we do? Still cut it open?"

"Well..." I shifted my gaze from the tools to the safe and back, trying to make the right decision, which would undoubtedly affect the future of my family. Cutting could take too long, drilling through the door... Or trying to pull it out and drill from the top... No, we need another plan. We need a lot of plans to understand what's worth doing and what's not quickly. And I was running all of them through my head now, recalling everything I ever knew or read about cracking safes. And finally, I made up my mind. "You know, change of plans. This is a rich house, right?"

"Yeah?" Malu nodded.

"And how old is the guy?"

"About fifty, maybe sixty, something like that," he shook his head from side to side.

"I see... then wake up the maid. She might be able to help us."