Maitho walked directly to the main door. If he had to make a guess, then the intruders would not leave the door locked, since it could prevent them from making a quick getaway. On the other hand, they might have also planned to make their escape using another exit.

Only one way to find out.

Maitho placed his hands on the door knob and twisted it. His heart was hammering his chest. If someone was standing on the other side of the door, then he would find himself in more trouble than he could handle.

He pushed the door open.

And found himself face-to-face with with a man in a butler's uniform, holding a small revolver.

The man raised the weapon and Maitho reacted, grabbing the weapon with one hand. He jammed his index finger between the trigger and the trigger guard, preventing the butler from shooting. His other hand delivered a quick jab to the man's throat using the Taser. The butler let go of the revolver and clutched his neck, his eyes bulging wide. The man was obviously not used to close-quarters combat.

Maitho placed the revolver on the shoe cabinet near the entrance and grabbed the butler's shirt. He swung him around, and delivered a sharp kick in the knee pit. The butler lost balance and was down on one knee. Maitho wrapped his arm around the man's neck and squeezed.

The butler must have realized what was going to happen to him, because he tried to reach for Maitho's face. His attempts were clumsy, since the blow to his neck must have partially blocked his trachea and his brain wasn't receiving enough oxygen. After one last feeble attempt at trying to harm Maitho's face, the butler's arms fell limp to his sides.

Maitho gently deposited the unconscious butler on the floor. He waited for a moment, listening for any sounds that might indicate that the other, more notorious occupants, of the house had heard him. His heart was still thudding like a drum solo at a rock festival. It felt as though it wanted to break free of his ribcage and escape into the night, as far away from the house as possible. A single drop of sweat trickled down his face, betraying Maitho's true sense of nervousness, despite the calmness he was trying to maintain.

This won't do. For all he knew, the thieves could be sneaking up to him this very moment. He closed his eyes, pushed with his mind...

...and found himself inside a weak and frail body. He was seated on a luxurious sofa chair beside an even more luxurious four-posted bed. Both the chair and the bed were splashed with floral designs, the reds, golds, and what could only be considered as a soft granite color all complimenting each other. A large painting, depicting a colossal wave threatening to overturn a boat while a snow-capped mountain stood in the background, covered one wall. The main source of light in the room came from a crystal chandelier, which had a design so complex that Maitho would need a whole hour to understand it completely.

"Did you hear that?"

The voice was gruff, as though it was fighting a throat ailment that refused to leave. Definitely the male intruder.

"Hear what? Is there someone else in the house?"

A second voice. Feminine. It was almost husky and while there was a pleasant quality to it, Maitho imagined a hissing snake.

From the old man's position, Maitho spotted the intruders near the door. The olive-skinned man was ready to leave the room and the woman was close to him, holding a long-bladed knife in her hands. The two intruders positioned themselves on either side of the doorway with the woman hiding behind the door, probably for a surprise attack. They were not paying any attention to their hostage, probably because they taught he would not do anything.

"I think we might not be alone," said the man.

Maitho's consciousness returned to his own body. The old man was alive and was surprisingly not tied up. The thieves hadn't made a move, but the olive-skinned man would exit the room soon. Even though Maitho had seen ten seconds into the future, it would be enough time for him to prepare himself. He was in no mood for another one-on-one confrontation, but he might not have any choice in the matter.

Maitho took a flight of stairs to the upper floor. He soon found himself on a landing. The path split into two corridors on either side of him, doors lining their walls. He didn't have to ponder long on which direction he needed to go. A sliver of light sliced the shadows of the corridor to his right. Maitho strode towards the light on the balls of his feet, hoping that he was fast enough to reach the door, but quiet enough to avoid detection. He noticed more light spilling into the corridor. Someone was opening the door. Probably the man.

"I think we might not be alone," Maitho heard the man saying. The ten seconds had passed.

He walked up to the door, pulled out his Taser, faced the room in the direction he knew the man would be standing aimed and pulled the trigger. Two probes shot out of the gun and embedded themselves into the olive-skinned man's torso. A pulse of 50,000 volts shot traveled along the wires and into the intruder's body. Instantly, the man began convulsing, as though a giant hand had gripped him and was shaking him violently. Maitho heard a woman's surprised gasp. Knowing she was just behind the door, he lifted his leg, put as much force into it and kicked out. He watched as the door was pushed back with a terrifying force, but its trajectory was stopped short by something—presumably the woman—and it was sent bouncing back towards the door frame.

Maitho caught the door before it could close shut and stepped into the room. The woman was on the ground, holding a bloody nose. She wasn't fully incapacitated, but she would be down for a few moments at least. Enough time for him to render her unconscious.

Before he could do anything else, a croaky voice spoke to him.

"Please," the old man who was tied to the chair said. "Don't hurt my children."