Lupin continues his mad dash up the steps, admittedly feeling the dull pain of exertion at this point. His muscles were tiring, his lungs were starting to burn.

Usually there was a car, or a bike, or something he could catch a ride on to make a clean get away. Not in this case.

He scrambled around the corners and onto the third level, making a beeline toward Zenigata's apartment and for the pile. Maybe he unconsciously stole something that would be useful--he was hoping for that, anyway. Judging by the pile, it was likely so much junk of the sort that a child would nick from a grocery store.