The lock kit in my hands was only good for a few floors: I carefully deduced how many I would need, and decided I would have enough.

But I would soon need to get more.

Sliding out a small lock pick, I poked it into the jammed door and jingled it around a bit until I heard a click.

That was the signal.

I took it out and discarded it into my pocket: I couldn't leave any trace behind.

Slipping into the home, I almost felt bad for the rich man who owned so much. Smirking, I adjusted the mask to fit my face more smugly: he wouldn't own quite as much when he woke up next morning.

Glancing at my watch, I saw that I had twenty minutes tops, and even that was pushing my luck.

But I figured that since I seemed to have so much of it, I might as well use it to my advantage.

Walking stealthily across the room, I gazed around with my night-vision glasses and carefully stepped over a jumble of toys. The rich man must have kids.

I walked into the next room and saw a set of pretty gold figurines.

My lips curved upward in an evil smirk: that would be my first target.

Digging in my pocket, I pulled out a thick fabric black bag. Grabbing a few pieces of scrap fabric from my other pocket, I carefully wrapped the gold figures and deposited them away so that they didn't clink against each other.

I clutched the bag tightly in my fist and continued onward, deciding to hit the main robbery as I carefully climbed the stairs.

This was the hardest part of my job. I had been researching this house for about a week, and had set up cameras so that I knew where everything was. I knew when the rich man and his wife went to sleep. I knew that the children were light sleepers. I knew things that they themselves didn't know.

I was a large criminal who went by the name of "Luck." I broke into many houses before, so this particular robbery was little in comparison to others I've been involved in.

I crept up to the master bedroom and lightly opened the door, sliding in and closing it behind me. Before I did anything else, I checked the time again. According to my watch, it was 2:30 in the morning.

The couple was sleeping peacefully in their beds, back to back. In seconds I decided they weren't the happiest people.

They would be even less happy after I'm through here.

I walked around a well-known creaking floorboard and stopped at the woman's expensive dresser.

There was a jewelry box on it, and I knew for a fact that it was locked.

Slipping out another lock pick from my gloves, I slid it carefully into the lock and jangled it around a bit until I expertly heard the dull clink.

I took out the now-broken pick and opened the box to see the prize of my troubles.

I smirked and studied the box before reaching in. Sometimes there were little traps . . .

But not this time, I realized, and slowly went in to scoop out the priceless necklaces. I shoved them in my pocket and turned back to the box. Quietly getting out a folded piece of paper, I placed it gently into the box before softly closing it.

Leaving it as it was, I slid toward the window and opened it up, sitting on the frame as I smirked to myself.

Attached to my hip was a length of rope. I undid it and tied it strongly to the bed post.

Then, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Smirking, I lit it and puffed a few times before grabbing the rope and sliding down it.

With that, I clutched my bag tightly in my hands and ran, escaping quickly and painlessly.