The paparazzi had a spree the day Amber Sweet announced she would take over GeneCo. With her father dead, and Shilo Wallace gone, Amber was the next choice in line for the GeneCo throne. Pavi and Luigi soon lost the anger they had when they realised they themselves would not own anything of their father's business. The anger was subsided the moment that they realised that if they had indeed become the owners, they wouldn't have the time for the extravagant parties, the glamorous Genterns who complied to their every need, in more ways than one, nor the simple pleasures of being able to threaten someone without it being publicised on the local newspaper.

Amber Sweet herself adored the life. As the owner of the business, she was able to get surgery whenever she needed it, and no longer had to go down a back alley to supply herself with Zydrate. Her father hadn't enjoyed the idea of her addiction- exactly the reason why he started the Zydrate Support Network, forcing Amber to be the spokeswoman- and disallowed her more than the prescribed amount during surgery. She'd always remembered the pain after surgery that way, though, and swore to herself always to find a large supply with the nearest Graverobber.

To the public, it seemed like the Largo family had it all. And to the Largo family, they felt like they did have it all. They had fame, riches, endless supplies of drugs, and for Pavi's pleasure, enough access to skin grafts that he could take comfort in knowing that he would never go without a fresh face in the morning. Yes, they had everything they needed to settle with a wonderful life. There was only one thing they could not buy, could not find, and could not have.

Certainty.

It was known to the Largo siblings that within their father's will, there was a clause that was written soon after Rotti named Shilo Wallace as his successor. He was certain that, under no circumstances, would his offspring own GeneCo longer than was needed. Of course, if worst came to worst, they could look after it, make sure it did not fall to ruins. He entrusted them with this, and this alone. The siblings were past caring that their father did not trust them, but were concerned about the certainty of their place in GeneCo.

The clause states that if the successor can not be found, or resigns their place, then their leave of absence may not exceed three months. Rotti assumed this period of time long enough for Shilo to gather her senses after the initial shock of being given a business to run, and thought that she would return to GeneCo so as to take her place as its owner. He would not take any chances, though. It was also said that if said successor did not return after the three month period, she would be found by force. It had now been six months, and Shilo Wallace had not yet been found.

Amber had attempted at first to call off the search, but the guards remained faithful to Rotti's will, and would stop at nothing to hunt for Shilo. They were as adamant as the current Repo Man who had taken over from Nathan Wallace's place after his stage death. Amber had quite easily explained Nathan's death, saying that after the opera, he had run away and committed suicide. She quite brilliantly, if anyone who knew about the fact was honest, gave a passing by drug addict a make over and had Luigi throw him into a river, handcuffed to weights. It was the easiest way to cover up the murder, and a plan Amber was sure her father would have been proud of, had he been alive.

The news travelled fast that there was a search for the true heir to the GeneCo throne. Anyone who had been at the opera had thought that it was simply part of the show when Rotti claimed she would be his successor, and had spread the news of the brilliant twist. When it was discovered that the girl who they had first expected to be some actress was the real heir, all havoc had wreaked. Rewards were soon announced, giving hundreds of dollars to the person who found her alive.

Any searches, though, were fruitless. Amber Sweet was happy enough knowing that the girl would not be found, and she would remain as the owner of GeneCo as long as it remained this way. With her position in the business, Amber did not have much time to think, if she did so at all, but she was able to reflect on certain things. The more that this Shilo Wallace was described, the more her pictures appeared pinned up on telegraph poles, the more the face started to become familiar to her. She smirked to herself whenever she thought of Shilo. The first and last time she had seen her clearly was all those months ago when she went downtown for her dose of Zydrate. Amber had, of course, been slightly dazed with the desire for the drug, and only concentrated really on the man who would give it to her, but remembered that young girl who seemed to like Blind Mag's music. Amber never understood how anyone could enjoy that bitch's singing, but it seemed that they did. After that, she had collapsed from the drugs in her system. Amber didn't see the girl after that, not even realising that it was the same Shilo that the previous Repo Man was always talking about.

So was life in the higher levels of the GeneCo building. Amber pondered, Luigi maimed, and Pavi seduced the Genterns. The upper-floor life was one they had been used to before, and yet adored more now that they had the freedom to abuse their fortunate more than ever.

Life below, though, was much the same as it had been for the past years.

Unlicensed drug sources still roamed, prostitutes still followed the source, and people still lived out their lives in the manner they had done before the events of 2036. Few knew for definite what had happened, even fewer were changed at all.

Only one person knew what had happened for sure, but hadn't changed in the slightest.

It didn't matter to New York's own Graverobber that his best customer was now rich enough and powerful enough to gain her own supply. He didn't care much. One customer was just the same as another in his opinion. Anyway, it wasn't like he actually got any money out of her, and any payment he actually did get was, in his own opinion, selfish on her part. Each night, he still roamed the graveyard, and each night he found a good supply of drugs. Zydrate was running low compared to the times when Rotti had been in charge, but there were plenty more drugs to be found. None, though, were bringing in as much money as Zydrate.

"Fucking Amber," he muttered each time he shoved a needle into the corpses that he found. "Obviously doesn't get the idea this is how she got her load."

It the Graverobber's theory that not only was Amber a selfish lover, but also a selfish drug user. The owner of GeneCo would always issue the amount of Zydrate given to a patient during surgery, and she had given much less to the patients than Rotti ever had. The less of the drug a patient had, the less they would have when they died. It was the circle that made the Graverobber's business thrive, and one he had become used to.

Nights passed by in this way. It was a much safer job now that people were searching for Shilo Wallace instead of him. A part of him mourned for the poor thing, forever running from these guards. The rest of him, a much more dominant part of his mind, cried out 'who the fuck cares?'.

It was a dark night of no particular importance that these events changed. The month was November, and the previous night had been Bonfire Night. Therefore the streets were filled with the sound of fireworks that everyone had forgotten to set off the night before, and a thin smoke surrounded the streets. Only one figure could be seen through this smoke- all other people were either hidden in their gardens with fireworks or downtown, surrounding the Graverobber in a festive need for their drugs. The figure walked in no particular direction, but in a way that did not lead onto a confused manner, nor a frightened one. The person's stance was assured, and if anyone had passed by the street they would see it was a young girl.

The girl paused by a lamp post, staring at the poster that was pinned to it.

Wanted, Shilo Wallace

Owner of GeneCo, successor of late Rotti Largo

$200 reward if alive

A picture was set under this of the girl named Shilo, a picture taken when she was fifteen and celebrating a party with her father, whose face had been burnt in a way similar to when a cigarette butt is pressed against a picture. With a swift movement, the person grabbed the poster and ripped it from its place on the lamp post. She twisted it into a tight ball in her hand and threw it to the floor, uttering an incoherent noise of disgust.

She carried on walking, turning abruptly down a side street of no importance to anyone who would be watched. It did, however, hold importance to the girl. She walked on, her pace even and slow, casual. At last, the alleyway opened up into a small area, not much bigger than a children's park. Different people sauntered around, all with the same purposes. She noticed two were slumped against a wall, looking as if they were eating each others faces- the vigour with which they kissed seemed to cause a trickle of blood from one of the people's mouths. There were a group of withdrawn-looking adults, rubbing their hands together in angst. Another group of teenagers were waiting around, attempting to look cool and sophisticated, although a glaze in their eyes told the passer by that they were waiting for some form of drugs.

All of a sudden, a tall figure carrying a sack over his shoulder appeared around the corner, causing a cheer from some of the groups. Some uttered groans similar to ecstasy that caused the girl to wrinkle her nose in disgust. They swarmed the man, who raised a hand, signalling them to move out of his way.

"You'll have to wait in line," he said in a deep, smooth voice. "I'm afraid the Zydrate's going to the highest bidder tonight, children," he continued, laughing at the idea of calling them his 'children'.

"Please!" one cried out, grabbing the man's coat. "Please, I need it!"

"Like I haven't heard that one before," he retorted, pushing the person away. "Come on, line up for your supply."

The girl watched from the alleyway opening, surveying all the addicts that swarmed around the Graverobber. It was a pitiful sight, but she could not help but wish to laugh at the scene. There were few horrific sights in the world to make a person feel better about themselves, and whenever the opportunity to see one came along, you can not help but feel good.

"Last vile!" the Graverobber cried out, bringing the girl back to reality. "You're all gonna have to bid your hearts out for this one."

An uproar was caused at these words, people thrusting their hands in their pockets and holding notes high in the air, calling out different amounts of money. The stranger tutted, and at last made a small movement. She walked towards the group, easily pushing away people as they weakened at the fact that they would not gain the drugs they desired. The girl's visage was solemn, not a trace of humour on her face any more. The Graverobber looked up from those that surrounded him, and a slight shock passed over his face. It was only slight, though, and within the second he smirked again.

"Why, it's our own little heiress," he said, walking to meet the girl in the middle. "Our own little Shilo Wallace."

Those that were still aware of their surroundings gasped, while others were still whimpering about their loss.

"Didn't think you were one to remember an old face," she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

"Kid, I'd never forget one like yours." He attempted to place a hand under her chin, but she pushed the arm away.

"Is that your last vile of Zydrate?" she asked bluntly.

"Didn't think we'd see you drugging it up," he replied.

"Just answer the question."

"Yes, kid, yes it is. Are we interested?"

Shilo looked at the vile he held in his hand, and inspected it slightly.

"It's not the usual glass vile, I can see."

"I ran out," he replied coolly. "Only got the lead one left. Look, are you buying or not?"

"Let me have a look," she demanded, holding out her hand. The Graverobber nodded slightly, handing her the vile. Shilo held it between two fingers, staring at it from all angles. Unexpectedly, she brought it close to her lips and licked the side of it, shuddering once she withdrew it. The Graverobber arched an eyebrow as she gave the vile back.

"It's not Zydrate," she stated simply.

"Would I cheat you, kid?"

"It's not Zydrate," she repeated. "I'm sure of it."

"How?"

"I'd be dead now if it were."

There was a pause between the two, and all of a sudden, he laughed riotously.

"Are you sure?"

"You can't put Zydrate in lead. The drug does something to the lead and makes it poisonous. If it were Zydrate, I'd be dead."

"And how do you know that, little lady?"

"Saw it somewhere," she said, shrugging her thin shoulders. She stared at the Graverobber, who was staring in turn, slightly impressed.

"Looks like you've been learning some stuff, kid."

"More than you know."